


Overcoming

by Seajellybaby



Series: The LA Series [21]
Category: As the World Turns
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gay, Gay Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Marriage, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23329315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seajellybaby/pseuds/Seajellybaby
Summary: The LA Series is my attempt to continue the Luke and Noah story from the finale onward.  I have tried to keep as true to the original show as possible.  I hope you enjoy it. As these stories are part of a series I have rated them all as mature - Just to be safe.
Relationships: Noah Mayer/Luke Snyder
Series: The LA Series [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601257
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

As he stepped through the front door of the house, Noah's eyes darted immediately from the broken lock on the drinks cabinet to the hammer on the floor; lying among shards of shattered glass. Luke was sitting deathly still at the table; eyes fixed on a full glass of whiskey; hand gripping the opened bottle.

Wide brown eyes lifted to meet his, and Luke exhaled visibly in his relief at Noah's return. "Help me," he mouthed; face pale in the soft glow of a nearby standing lamp.

Shocked, Noah nodded; closed the door; dropped his laptop bag. He approached tentatively; sitting gently beside him.

Luke was staring trance-like at the golden liquid in the glass; his breathing short and sharp; fighting an internal battle not to drink.

"How long have you been sitting here, hmm?" As he spoke, Noah very slowly threaded his fingers through Luke's hair; watching as Luke's eyes closed at the touch. Noah used his free hand to pry Luke's hold on the bottle. It was a vice-like grip; took Noah a few goes; but eventually Luke was gripping his hand instead.

Nuzzling Luke's neck, Noah brought his lips close to his ear and whispered, "It's okay, baby. I'm here now." He cursed himself internally for coming home from the studio so late; deeply massaged the back of Luke's neck with this other hand.

"I'm sorry," Luke murmured, pressing back into the touch.

"What for?"

Luke frowned; looked dejectedly at the mess around him.

"Hey," Noah bobbed his head to get Luke's full attention. He caught Luke's eyes and the blonde relaxed, "did you drink any?"

Luke shook his head.

Noah smiled. "Then we're all good. Right?"

Luke gazed back at the full glass on the table, licking slightly at his bottom lip. "I want to though..."

Noah hooked his forefinger under his husband's chin to pull his head back around. "Let me take you to bed."

Noah shouldn't have been surprised to find Luke so lost and confused. He'd seen it coming ever since they arrived home from the farm; with Luke acting strangely withdrawn; not wanting to go out.

_No, that's not right. He's not able to._

"What about...?" Luke looked around the room.

"I'll clean it all up," Noah assured him, "don't you worry…"

"You're too good for me. You know, I know that, right? You've always been too good for me..."

Noah smiled again, kissing the side of his head. "Ditto."

"Thank you."

"That's what I'm here for."

They walked hand in hand to their bedroom; Noah glancing surreptitiously into the kids room as they past. Two small mounds confirmed both Mia and Nicholas were safely tucked in bed, fast asleep.

...

Luke groaned; rolled over onto his side, gripping a pillow over his ear. He knew it was morning because the blinds were open; sunlight was warm and bright in the room. He knew if he opened his eyes that would be it; time to get up. Lately, getting up was hard. It was difficult to accomplish a full night's sleep with his dreams turning back to Africa; inevitably waking him up in a cold sweat.

But it wasn't fair on Noah; having to keep the household running on his own. Especially now, when he was so close to completing his film. For that reason, Luke resolved to open his eyes and greet a new day with as much positivity as he could muster.

_At least it's a Saturday..._

He opened one heavy lid at a time; had to smile when he was met by two expectant blue eyes. "Morning Nicky," he yawned.

Nicholas smiled brightly in his Batman pajamas. Luke wondered how long he'd been standing there.

"Is it my bur-day?" he mumbled happily, scratching at the side of his nose.

Still half asleep it took Luke a moment, "What's that, baby?"

"My bur-day?" the boy repeated with a crinkled brow.

Still too sleepy to work out what Nicholas meant, Luke smiled and patted his stomach. "Climb up here."

Nicholas complied, straddling Luke's belly.

"Can I get a cuddle?"

The boy grinned; fell forward, resting his head on Luke's chest. He smelt like baby shampoo.

"Noah's making a cake," Nicholas announced.

Luke chuckled, "Wait a minute!" He pushed Nicholas back up by his arms. "Did you just say Noah's making a cake?"

Nicholas nodded, "It's for me." The boy smiled proudly.

"Okay," Luke heaved himself up from under the child, making him giggle, "now _this_ is worth getting up for!"

Noah was a great cook. He'd had to learn as a child under his father's instruction. But he was only able to produce a set number of specific recipes. He was never taught the art of baking.   


Padding barefoot to the kitchen, the unmistakable baking smell of flour, egg and sugar wafted into his nostrils. He stepped through the kitchen door; Nicholas on his heels; just as a frowning and flour clad Noah pulled the sunken disaster from the oven.

"Not. A. Word!" He moaned. "Seems baking a cake from scratch is entirely different from baking cupcakes from a box."

Luke tried to stifle his laugh behind his arm.

"It's not funny!" Noah insisted, dropping the cake tin on the counter; throwing the oven mitt right after in frustration.

Luke's grin widened. "It kinda is!"

Noah's gaze fell from Luke to the attempted cake and back to Luke before he too laughed. "Okay," he conceded, "it is funny!"

"Awe, poor, Bubby." Luke pulled the tall body into a hug, patting his back in sympathy.

They pulled apart without breaking; Noah rested a hand on the side of Luke's face, studying him intently; trying, unsuccessfully, to hide a look of worry. Luke was tired of seeing that look on the handsome face, especially since he was the cause.

"You okay," Noah asked him, "better?"

Luke smiled and nodded, leaning up to kiss him softly. "Why didn't you wake me?" He asked, changing the subject. "I could have done this."

Noah shrugged. "You needed to sleep. And besides, I wanted to do something special for Nicky. It's his first proper birthday."

"Oh," Luke exclaimed in realization, "birthday!" He laughed turning to Nicky, now seated up on one of the kitchen stools licking batter from a ladle. Blue eyes were watching them both with brightly, "is that what you meant, baby?"

Nicholas nodded. "Yeah, bur-day. That's what I said."

Smiling, Luke walked over to kiss the top of Nicholas's head. A brief moment of sadness passed between the two men. They had resolved to give Nicholas the best birthday they could, pretty sure Michelle would never have bothered to celebrate it. Assuming she even remembered the date.

"It's going to be a very special day, Nicky," Noah explained.

"Why?" the boy asked, cake batter dripping from his chin.

"Because, it's the day you were born." Luke ruffled his hair and wiped the mess from Nicholas's face with his thumb.

Nicholas's frown deepened and Noah laughed at the expression on his tiny face.

Trying to come up with a way to explain so that the boy understood, Noah said, "Nicky, we are very happy that you came to live with us and we're going to have a party. And there'll be cake and balloons…"

"...and presents!" an excited Mia finished the sentence as she joined them in the kitchen, gripping a fashion doll in one hand. "You get lots and lots of toys and stuff!"

She giggled as Luke blew a raspberry into her neck; lifting her up onto the stool next to Nicholas.

"Really?" Nicholas asked in wonderment.

"Yes, really," Noah nodded.

"Today?"

"No, not today, baby," Luke said, rubbing circles on his small back, "your birthday is tomorrow."

"How many sleeps?"

"Just one sleep," Noah replied, "and then you'll be five years old."

"I'm five!" Mia exclaimed importantly, walking her doll along the counter surface, leaving tiny flour footprints behind.

"Yes you are," Luke agreed, "big enough to help me bake a cake! What do you say? Shall we show Noah how it's done?"

"Yeah!"

...

A while later, sprinkled in kisses and a dash of giggles, the foursome, one dressed and three still pajama-clad, successfully removed their beautifully baked chocolate sponge cake from the oven.

"Wow," Nicholas exclaimed in approval, picking up the bottle of multi-colored sprinkles, "can we shake this on now?"

"Not just yet, baby," Luke replied; quickly held the tiny hand back from touching the cake. "Careful! It's very hot."

"Okay."

"Mmm!" Mia smiled. "Smells yummy!"

"Okay, time for all of us to get dressed!" Noah laughed. "Can't spend the whole day in our PJ's now can we?"

"Yeah, and by the time we're dressed, maybe the cake will be cold enough to decorate," Luke suggested.

"Yay!" Nicholas exclaimed, clambering off the stool so he and Mia could run off to their bedroom.

Noah squeezed Luke's shoulder. Luke pressed his cheek against Noah's warm chest, swaying them both slowly in a small dance. He started to hum a made up tune as they moved. Noah pressed a kiss into his neck. Luke loved these moments.

However the moment was interrupted by the doorbell.

Luke looked questioningly up at Noah. "They're early, aren't they?"

Noah laughed. "Not really, Luke. We've been a little distracted this morning... It's already noon!"

Glancing up at the clock, Luke blushed. "You mean I have to open the door dressed like this?"

"They won't mind."

Luke winked, rubbed his hands quickly on a kitchen towel and headed for the front door. He continued to hum as he approached, but, relaxed by all the fun of the morning, totally forgot. When his legs stopped working, he hit the wall harder than usual. It was like a sickness. He described it to Noah as the feeling he got while riding a roller-coaster; just as it reached the top and his stomach dropped on decent. Only this feeling wasn't associated with fun at all and, once activated, could last an hour, a day, two…

He couldn't move his legs; he felt encased in numbness. It was as close to the front door, as close to the perceived danger, as his subconscious would allow him to go. His vision began to blur; his skin formed a thin layer of warm sweat. He tried to fight the panic, but he could feel it overwhelming him. And it would have too, had Noah not been there to stable him with a warm hand in the small of his back.

"It's okay, Luke," he said, his voice like a caress, "you don't have to get it."

Luke pulled his attention from the door to meet the understanding of Noah's blue eyes. The doorbell rang once more. He jumped so far back he ended up half seated on the edge of the sofa.

"Luke, it's okay. It's just your parents with Ethan."

Luke's eyes widened in frustration. "Logically, I know that Noah. I know how stupid this is."

Noah pulled Luke to standing and gripped both his arms at the shoulders. "Nothing about you is stupid, okay? We'll figure it out. It's just how you're dealing with things right now."

Luke began to apologize, but Noah pressed a forefinger to his lips. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

Luke sighed. He couldn't believe how much his body was shaking.

"Go shower and change," Noah told him, "I got this. I'm coming!" Noah shouted as the doorbell chimed once more. He waited until Luke was out of sight before opening it.

"Noah!" Lily beamed, hugging him so hard she knocked the air from his body.

"Hey!" Noah laughed.

"Noah, Noah!" Ethan repeated, hopping up and down with outstretched arms.

Noah squatted to his level and accepted the small arms around his neck. "Hey big guy! Are you ready for the sleepover?"

"Yeah, can we catch Never Ending Story?"

"Sure, buddy! But one thing at a time, right? Why don't you go and find Nicky and Mia? They're in their bedroom."

"Okay." He scurried off past Noah. Noah stood back, making room for Lily to enter before shaking Holden's hand.

"Where's Luke?" Holden asked.

"He's gone for a shower. I'm sorry, we're all running a little late this morning. I'll have to go and get the kids dressed in a minute."

"I can do that!" Lily smiled. "It will give you boys some time to catch up."

Noah laughed. "It's only been two weeks since we left the farm!"

"I know, I know. But it was so lovely having you all around! The place seemed so empty without you."

"We missed you guys too," Noah assured her.

She patted his cheek and left to find the children.

Holden placed their overnight bags by the door; stood looking at Noah seriously. "How are things, son? Any improvement?"

Noah shook his head with a slight frown; closed the front door behind Holden. "It's weird, you know? One minute it's like there's nothing wrong and then the next…"

"What?" Holden pushed, as Noah broke off.

Noah wasn't sure how much to say but felt he could use Holden's advice. "Drink?"

Holden smiled. "I was just going to suggest that."

Holden slapped Noah's back fondly as they made for the kitchen; Noah made sure they both had a soda; were settled outside on the decking, before broaching the subject.

He fiddled with the ring tab on his cold soda can. "I found Luke with an open bottle of whiskey last night."

"He didn't?" Holden asked worriedly.

"No, no, Dad, he wouldn't."

"How do you know?"

Noah smiled softly. Ethan and Nicky were giggling as they appeared in the living room playing a game of sword fighting. "Nicky and Mia were here. He may have gotten as far as pouring the drink, but I know Luke. He'd never risk them. Never!"

Holden contemplated that for a minute, but finally nodded. "Luke has made mistakes before, but I believe you're right. Besides, every time he's lapsed before there was one thing not present."

"What's that?" 

"You."

They were silent as they both took a thoughtful sip from their cans.

"So he's not been outside at all?" Holden asked.

Noah shook his head, "Nope."

"I don't get it? So you got home from the farm and suddenly he couldn't leave?"

"Pretty much. He had to go into the office the following day, got as far as the doorstep and froze."

"I wish I could give you some solid advice, son, but I think you both need professional help with this one."

"Yes and I agree. We've discussed that. I guess we just hoped it would pass with time."

Holden leaned back; lifted his legs up onto a spare chair, rubbing the back of his neck. "Do you think Luke's sudden agoraphobia is connected to the events in Africa?"

Noah stared up at the clouds, blinking into the afternoon sun. "You can count on it."  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Having worked with animals for as long as he had, it was only natural that Holden would begin to pick out similarities between the horses in his stables and the people in his life. Horses were just as individual as humans; with their own needs, wants and behaviors. And, over the years, Holden's learned ability to read the innate psychological state of his horses, gradually began to translate over to his everyday interaction with people.

There was one particular horse, long departed, that Holden was starkly reminded of on that warm summer day four years ago, when Luke first brought Winston Mayer and his son Noah, over to the farmhouse for lunch.

…

_The three-year old stallion, Clandestine, first arrived at the farm because nobody else wanted him. Holden was seventeen; already legendary among trainers for the handle he had on horses, even troublesome ones._ _Horses were herd animals, naturally fearful and on the lookout for danger; constantly in search of leadership. Holden's gift was the ability to see the world from the horse's point of view and, in so doing, become the animal's trusted 'alpha'._ _Which was the reason why Snyder farm, as well as being one of the top stud farms in Illinois, had also become somewhat of a sanctuary for abandoned thoroughbreds._

_When Bob Lipton from one state over called to say he had a strange and difficult case; would Holden like to have him, Holden didn't hesitate. He'd broken in some of the most stubborn horses in existence; horses other trainers had long given up on. There was hope for every beast as far as Holden was concerned. You just had to find each animal's individual quirk._

_Clandestine, when he was first guided from the horse box and out into the yard, was not at all what Holden expected. He was beautiful; all black satin coat over strong muscled flanks. Holden couldn't stop staring at him. Clandestine simply stood there under Holden's gaze, twitching an ear and slapping his tail; good hindquarters, powerful thighs and wide flank. Unfathomably blue eyes regarded Holden cautiously, but with a respect not common in the horses Holden was used to._

_Holden raised his hand; smoothed it down the animal's lean neck, surprised when beast leaned into the touch._

" _Where'd he come from?" Holden asked._

" _Found 'im," Lipton replied, "all alone, far up in the hills. Got himself caught up in some barbed wire."_

_At that extra slice of information, Holden dropped his gaze. Sure enough, old scars ran in thin vertical lines up two of the animal's legs._

" _Well," Holden said; one hand still flat against the horse's belly; "except for a few visible scars, I don't see the problem? This horse seems fine to me."_

_The old man smiled, chewing on a wad of tobacco. "Yip, 'til you try riding 'im! That horse will buck you clean off… mark my words! That horse don't trust nothing and nobody!"_

_Holden's hand ran back up the neck and over the snout, carefully assessing Clandestine's reaction to it. He stared the horse right in the eyes; saw it then. This black had other scars too. Holden could tell. Scars that ran far deeper and couldn't be seen by the naked eye._

" _He wants too," Holden whispered._

" _How ya know?"_

_Holden smiled. "He's letting me touch him. He wouldn't do that if he was completely wild. Seems to me he wants to share… just doesn't know how."_

_Lipton shook his head like Holden was crazy. "Yeah, well, whatever! It's too much trouble for me anyhow. I aint got the time or the space so… if you want him and he's yours."_

_Holden nodded his okay and Lipton muttered his goodbyes, closing the doors on the horsebox; climbing into this truck._

" _Clandestine. Great name for you! You've certainly got yourself a couple of secrets now, don'cha boy?"_

_As Lipton drove away the horse snorted, blowing hot air in Holden's face. "_

_Nothing to worry about. We'll take good care of you."_

…

Holden was reminded of Clandestine from the very first moment he clutched and shook the nervous hand of the quiet and unassuming Noah Mayer; fearful blue eyes begging for understanding and acceptance. It didn't take long for Holden to warm to Noah. He immediately felt the boy's yearning for some kind of fatherly guidance that didn't include regular beatings and expectations usually reserved for soldiers. He loved Noah's wonderment at and excitement for everything the farm and family had to offer. His presence constantly reminding all of them, not to take the family for granted.

And Holden couldn't imagine any other person better suited for putting up with all of Luke's impulsive whims. Noah was brilliant; bright and talented with the motivation needed to achieve. He was strong and serious, yet at the same time unbelievably sincere and funny when you least expected it. But the quality Holden admired the most, was that Noah was wise beyond his years. Just like Clandestine, Noah thought things through; never acted brashly and above all, if you were lucky enough to earn the trust of this exceptionally cautious boy, was loyal to a fault.

And it was mostly for this reason, as Holden followed the young man back into the home the two boy's had created; watched Noah's gentle interaction with the children; that he wanted to scream at Luke and slap him across the back of the head. He would have done too, if Luke's latest escapade hadn't left the boy in a state of fragile fear.

"Luke's taking a long time getting ready isn't he?" Lily asked, appearing from the kitchen with a large plate of sandwiches for lunch.

Holden didn't miss the flash of sadness in Noah's face; blue eyes looking longingly toward the bedroom.

"I'll go and get him," Holden suggested, patting Noah on the shoulder.

He arrived at the closed bedroom door; first pressed an ear to it; knocking softly and calling, "Luke, it's Dad, can I come in?"

He heard a quick shuffling behind the door but there was no reply.

"Luke?"

"Um…" came Luke's uncertain reaction, "um… yeah… okay… yeah… sure…"

Holden opened the door to find his son standing as far away from it as was possible to get; back pressed against the built-in closet. He was showered and dressed, his hair hanging damp over his eyes.

"Hi," Luke greeted.

"Hey," Holden replied, keeping his voice calm and happy, "how you doing, son?"

Luke's eyes kept darting between Holden and the bathroom door, but froze when he noticed his father watching him intently.

"Lunch is ready. We've been waiting for you." As a test, Holden took a few steps closer. He kept moving slowly forward; watching the panic quickly rise on this son's face with each step.

"Don't come any closer!" Luke blurted suddenly, holding out his hand in a stop motion. He shook his head, wide eyes brimming with tears.

"It's okay, Luke."

"I know. I know it is… But… I'm so sorry Dad. It's just…"

They stared at each other for a moment. It was obvious to Holden that Luke was devastated by his own reaction but completely unable to control it. Luke nibbled at his lower lip, watching Holden with weariness. Eventually he asked with guilt, "Can you get Noah?"

Holden smiled, trying to show Luke things were okay. "Sure."

Luke nodded gratefully and Holden backed out of the room, scratching his head as he walked up the corridor to where, by now, the family were gathered around the table; laughing as they shared a few playful jokes. Nicholas was already tucking into a bread roll with the relish that always made Holden smile, while Noah dished some rice on Mia's plate. Lily was in the process of pouring everybody a glass of lemonade and looked up as Holden entered.

Noah stood from the table immediately; asking Holden a silent question.

Holden shook his head and hated how Noah's shoulders sagged.

"Luke's asking for you," he said, trying to sound upbeat so as not to worry the kids or Lily; although her eyes were clouding over in suspicious worry.

"Okay," Noah replied softly, dropping the serving spoon and trying to smile; trying to show reassurance he obviously wasn't feeling.

He was just about to go when a tiny voice stopped him.

"Come Luke… come… come…" Nobody had noticed Mia slip silently from her chair and disappear toward the bedrooms. She emerged now with a reluctant Luke in tow, their hands clasped together; Mia pulling Luke forcibly along.

Luke gulped as they reached the room. Holden smiled at the sight of them.

"Mia… um…" Luke scratched the back of his head, "Mia says lunch is ready?"

"Lunch, Luke!" Nicholas exclaimed with innocent excitement; grinning around a mouthful of roll.

Holden watched Noah now, stoic as always; fighting that internal battle so typical of him. He approach Luke and kiss him gently; smiled as he encouraged Luke to the table with one arm supportively held around Luke's shoulder.

…

Noah sat on the bed, softly tracing Luke's scars with his fingertips. Africa had left visible scars in two different places. There were the three remaining thin lines crisscrossing Luke's shoulders; the worst one running all the way to the small of his back. These scars had flattened out a little, but the longer one was salt-white and clearly noticeable. And then there were the rough and shapeless scars around his wrists where the rope had burned through this skin.

Noah grimaced as he reached for the tube of ointment from the bedside table; strong smell of menthol quickly filling the room as he unscrewed the tiny red cap. Chris Hughes prescribed the cream while they were still in Oakdale. He said it would help diminish the scarring. Noah was impressed with how effectively it was working. Considering all things, Luke's skin was healing surprisingly well.

The hidden scars though, the emotional ones, remained; deepening with each passing day. And Luke wasn't the only one carrying these. Noah felt a sick sense of rage, fear and pain each time he attended the wounds; it sat heavy in his stomach like a cold hard rock.

Finished applying the cream, he wiped his hands on a small towel and tossed it to the bottom of the bed. Leaning over, he disturbed the hair at the base of Luke's neck so that he could find a patch of skin and kiss him there. Luke's body shivered under his touch; Noah heard him sniff.

"Don't worry, baby," Noah whispered, turning off the nightlight and crawling into the bed beside him, "we'll work it out, like we always do."

"I'm being so unfair to you, Noah…"

"It's okay…"

"No it's not!" Luke cupped Noah's cheek and sighed. "I hate being this way… doing this to you…"

Noah shushed him. "Hey, you did a brave thing today right? You felt an attack coming on, but you faced it and you came to lunch."

"But that's my family Noah! I get why I'd fear the outside… but my own parents? What's with that?"

"Look… for a week it's just been us and… and you haven't been outside or seen anybody else since the airport. You were just a little spooked… that's all…"

"But…"

Noah placed a finger on Luke's lips. "But you got over it. And that's the important thing."

Luke sighed deeply, burrowed closer to Noah. Noah kissed the top of his head, closed his eyes; hoping sleep would come.

"Noah?"

"Hmm hmm?"

"You will talk to me, right? If… if you're struggling… I mean, I know Dad's here so you can talk to him… but… I…"

Noah shifted uncomfortably in the bed. He was trying not to think about the week to come. His plan was to avoid all newspapers and television reports. Besides, he was over it. He'd pushed what happened with far down inside and gotten on with his life. He wasn't about to let the approaching sentencing dredge it all back up again. And he certainly didn't want Holden or anybody else finding out.

"It's always you taking care of me," Luke was saying, "it's always been that way! You never… you never let me take care of you too... and… and I'd really like it if you'd come talk to me, instead of Dad if you need to. I can handle it. I promise."

Noah kissed Luke's temple. "I know you can. But I'm gonna be fine. And I definitely don't want to talk to Dad about this. I don't want them to know Luke. Ever…"

Luke nodded. "I know... I just… You and Dad have gotten really close so… I thought you might…"

Noah lowered himself in the bed so he could look Luke in the eye. "Luke, I'm fine. Really."

Luke nodded, but something was obviously still bothering him.

"What is it?" Noah asked.

Luke swallowed. "I wanted to go."

Noah squeezed his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know you did."

"One of us…"

"Luke…"

"One of us needs to go."

Noah shook his head.

"Otherwise he's going to think he beat us! And I won't have that! I won't!"

Noah gripped Luke's shoulder tightly, eye to eye. "Then you go." He watched the internal tussle in Luke's eyes. "You can do it." 

Luke turned flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. He banged his arms against the mattress in frustration. "Shit! I hate this!"

Noah reached over; squeezed Luke's hand to calm him.

"Sorry," Luke whispered.

Noah smiled; rolled over the top of him. "What for, being passionate? I love that you're so passionate!"

"Even when it lands us both in Africa?"

"Except those times."

Luke smiled. "You really are amazing… I'm so lucky."

"Why," Noah asked with a glint in his eye, "because no other man would put up with you?

"Hey," Luke laughed, "I'll forgive you for saying that because you're probably right!"

Noah pressed his forehead into Luke's. "I'm just relieved to have you home. And tomorrow is Nicky's birthday."

Luke grinned. "Yeah."

"So let's just concentrate on having a little fun tomorrow. God knows we could both use a day off from it all!"

"Okay," Luke whispered, lifting his head from the pillow to steal a soft kiss from Noah's lips.

They enjoyed a long moment of simply staring at each other, Noah lightly stroking Luke's sideburns. Eventually Noah dropped his head to Luke's chest. They held each other; legs all tangled above the sheets.


	3. Chapter 3

Creamy brown eyes were studying him fondly when Noah woke; lifted his brows in surprise. It was a while since they'd both slept through the night.

"Morning." The man to whom those eyes belonged smiled warmly; lying on his side with his head sunk deeply in a pillow. He looked rested; his dreamy expression gave Noah butterflies.

"What are you doing way over there?" Noah complained groggily, reaching his arms out over the gap between them. "Scoot over sunshine!"

Luke laughed. "You know I'd love to, but…"

"But?" Noah drew out.

Luke indicated to the bottom of their bed with a bob of his head. Noah chortled as he lifted up on his elbows to see the obstruction; two little boys curled together, gently sighing in contentment.

"Explains why I have pins and needles in one foot! I wonder how long they've been down there."

"Who knows?" Luke agreed. "Too excited to sleep and went on an exploration mission."

Noah chuckled; sat up to run his fingers through Nicholas' jet black hair. He smiled; kissed the boy on his warm cheek. "Happy Birthday, big guy."

He closed his eyes and flopped back into the mattress, stretching his arms above his head with a satisfied groan.

"He's getting better isn't he?" Luke asked contemplatively.

"Hmm? Who, Nicky?"

"Yeah. Dr. Mishra's snack box idea seems to be working. At least it's been a while since we've found any nasty surprises lurking in cupboards or under beds…"

Noah nodded. "…now that he has a dedicated place to hide his food."

"I guess it makes sense when you think about it. I mean Ethan over here has his blankie." Luke lifted and dropped one corner of the faded and tattered blue baby blanket the sleeping Ethan had clutched between his fingers. "Nicky's tuck box is simply his version of a security blanket."

"Yip… and one I'm hoping he'll outgrow sooner rather than later…" Noah smiled.

He reached over the sheets to take Luke's hand in his, smoothing his fingers over the gaps between Luke's knuckles; thumb rubbing the rope marks around Luke's wrists. Luke's eyes closed at the touch; Noah pressed their palms together.

"Feels so good to be home," Noah mumbled; breathing in the comforting smell of clean honey scented sheets and groggy Luke. A smell made even more intoxicating by the slight saltiness on the morning breeze, that blew in through their open bedroom window. "Hey, maybe we should hit the beach for a swim before breakfast?"

"Great idea, Ethan will love that!"

Their conversation was interrupted by a slight shuffling from the doorway. They looked over to find Mia standing there, red hair frizzy and mussed up as she rubbed sleepy eyes. Her hand was full of the ear of her stuffed pink bunny; it dangled lopsided by the side of her face as she yawned.

Luke rolled over toward the doorway, disturbing the boys who shifted and moaned disapproval in their sleep.

"Come on over, sweetheart," Luke said, stretching his arms out in invitation.

She smiled her one hundred watt smile; the one that always made Noah's stomach clench in love for her; padded over to where Luke could reach her and lift her onto the bed between them.

"Pinola wants to sit here," she instructed, seating her bunny up against the headboard between the pillows, "so she can see."

"Oh," Noah asked with mock seriousness, bending to give Mia a kiss on her temple as she laid out flat, "Pinola's not tired? She doesn't want to snooze some more?"

Luke buried his face in the pillows, stifling a laugh. Noah grinned at him.

"A-a..." she shook her head vigorously from side to side, "Pinola's too excited…" She yawned widely with a slight squeak.

"Why's that?" Luke asked, even though he knew the answer.

With eyes already drooping back to sleep she muttered, "Nicky's par…"

She didn't even finish the sentence.

"And, she's gone," Noah smirked, already snuggling down, "perfect..."

"Yeah," Luke agreed, reaching over to run his fingers lightly through his husband's hair; closed his eyes to drift back off himself.

...

Lily Walsh Mason Santana Grimaldi Snyder was known in the business world for her levelheadedness. During a crisis, while the rest of the office lost their nerve and ran around like headless chickens, Lily could be found at her desk, calmly surveying the landscape and coming up with quickly thought out solutions. She was cool, composed, some would say even brutal; a trait no doubt inherited from her mother, Lucinda. She used her beauty, wit and intelligence to navigate the intricate world of business boardrooms and the men who dominated them.

However, as her numerous married names attested to, when it came to her personal life, Lily had the potential to descend into madness; be rendered incapable of making any kind of rational decisions. And this trait was especially magnified when it came to anything concerning her children. When emotions inserted themselves within the thought process, the normally controlled Lily would simply 'lose it'; to coin a favorite description used by her daughter, Faith. And so, as she spotted her husband leaning sideways and cross-heeled against the frame of the boy's open doorway, she once again thanked god for his strong presence in their lives. Through-out any crisis she could always rely on Holden to keep everybody buoyed above the stormy waves.

His arms were crossed lazily in front of him; his face contented as he gazed inside the bedroom. It was nice to see after those days of worry, while they waited for news on Luke and Noah's whereabouts in Africa.

Holden turned his head and smiled at her; forefinger coming up over his lips, while he gestured her forward with his other hand.

"Come see this…" he whispered, and she tiptoed down the corridor to join him.

As her husband's arm rested around her shoulder, her heart melted at the sight before them; all their boys and one little girl snoozing contently within a beam of morning sunlight. She slipped her hand into Holden's back pocket and withdrew his cell phone.

"Quick," she whispered, "take a photo and e-mail it to me."

He smiled at her, unwrapping his arm and activating the camera on his phone.

"My new wallpaper…" she whispered.

Holden's right eyebrow rose. "What do _you_ know about wallpaper?"

She smacked his shoulder playfully. "I'm learning."

He grinned and slipped his phone away so he could pull her flush against him. She sighed happily within the warmth of his body; thoughts drifting to Luke as her eyes hovered over his sleeping face.

The very fact that her first born should arrive so unexpectedly one day on the kitchen floor, should really have been warning enough that her son had no intentions of living his life quietly and without event. From the very first moment she held him in her arms and he looked curiously up into her eyes, he'd set about finding any and every opportunity to get himself into trouble and cause her no end of worry and even fear.

But Luke never seemed to learn, because perhaps the worst thing about his exploits was his parent's inability to remain angry at him for long. Luke almost always had the best of intentions; and how could you explain to a child that trying to help was wrong, when trying to help could also be so very right.

...

" _Luke!" she stumbled over a tree root and landed on all fours. The forest floor seemed to flicker as her torch fell and rolled away. "Luke, baby…" she out cried again, softer this time and in line with her emotions. Snot and tears fell like rivers; she heaved through her growing panic._

_She could hear the far off cries and shouts from the Snyder men and women all out searching. She tried not to consider all the things that could have befallen a lost six year old boy, but her mother's brain was already imagining the deep waters of the pond or the black depths of the numerous wells._

_The baby inside of her kicked in protest; she huffed in pain, sitting back against a large bolder. She rubbed her expanded belly in small circles, trying to calm the child as well as herself._ _Her eyes scanned the pitch blackness and she sobbed with frustration, angry at herself for not keeping a closer eye on her overly adventurous son._

" _Just like his damn father!" she voiced aloud and with bitterness, an image of the tall Maltesian flashing through her mind. She breathed deeply through her nose, trying to reign in her emotions so she could think clearly._

 _Finally able to breath again, she stood on wobbly feet; retrieved her torch. She wanted to run like a crazed banshee through the trees, but she knew she couldn't risk another fall, so she took her time._ " _Luke, call out to Mommy!"_

_A whistle blew somewhere on her left and her heart jumped. Somebody found something._ _She made her way toward the sound._

_"Holden? Anybody?"_

" _Over here, Lily." It was Jack._

" _Jack?"_

" _Yes, this way."_

_She struggled through the darkness, feeling the scrape of sharp bushes; carefully watching her feet. The whistle blew again; then the sound of other approaching footsteps and people calling out for each other._

_She felt sick with worry until she heard it, "Mommy!"_

_She almost fainted in relief, even though there was such obvious fear in his little voice._

" _Mommy, I'm stuck!"_

 _She found Jack illuminated within the perfectly round glow of his flashlight. She grabbed hold of his arm and he helped to steady her._ " _Jack! Jack! Where…?"_

" _It's okay. Lily, it's okay. Calm down."_

" _Mommy!"_ _She started when his cry came from above her._

_She flicked her torch upward and gasped when she located his tiny face, white with fear, peeking through the gaps of leaves and branches above._

" _Oh my, god, Luke! How did you get up so high?"_

" _Mommy!" his small snivels pierced her heart._

" _Don't move, okay, baby? You hold on tight!" her voice wobbled._

_Jack pulled her back; lowered his voice. "Lily, get a hold of yourself! He's fine. We know where he is and we'll get him down safely. But you're not helping him by losing it!"_

_She sniffed wide eyed and nodded her agreement._

" _What is it?" Holden asked, arriving from out of the darkness followed by several others from the search party._

_Holden automatically sought out his wife, making her feel safe in his hold._

" _Your son has climbed a little too high." Jack pointed skyward._

" _Daddy! I'm stuck!"_

_Holden shone his torch skyward, just as Lily had done. Many of the onlookers vocalized their amazement as Luke came into view._

" _Luke, what the hell are you doing up there?" Holden shouted._

" _Terrance was stuck," Luke gulped, as though this were the most rational of explanations, "he was stuck-ed in the tree…"_

" _Wellm where's Terrance now?"_

" _He climb-ded down..." Luke groaned, with obvious frustration at having to explain his story while trapped high off the ground._

_Holden put both hands on his hips and frowned angrily at him. "Well, he wasn't all that stuck then, was he?"_

_Luke burst into tears and Jack patted Holden on his back. "Come on, man. It's not helping being mad at him."_

" _What are you waiting for," Lily screamed in hysterics, sure her son would slip at any moment. Luke's crying was playing on her already tattered nerves. She pushed her husband roughly forward, "why aren't you climbing already?"_

" _Lily calm down," Holden pulled her to him and she sobbed into his shirt, "it's not safe. It's way too dark for that."_ _Holden flashed his torch over the terrain highlighting as much of the darkness as he could. "Do you think we can get the JCB out here?"_

_Catching on Jack smiled. "Great idea!"_

_It took them over an hour to drive the yellow JCB through the thick forest, having to make the occasional stop to clear a rough path along the way. During that time, Lily kept Luke talking, praying he wouldn't fall asleep; only too aware of his ever drooping eyelids. Eventually, they were able to lift the dipper arm; Holden in the bucket; high enough to rescue the shivering boy._

" _Oh, sweetheart," Lily cried as soon as Luke was safely in her arms. She licked her thumb and rubbed a dirt patch from her son's cheek, "why must you always try to do these things by yourself? Why didn't you call Mommy or Daddy to help you rescue the kitten?"_

" _But what if Terrance fall-ded down?"_

_Lily sighed, "Luke, I know you wanted to help, but not at the cost to your own skin. Do you understand, baby?"_

_Luke nodded, but Lily knew for sure this wouldn't be the last time Luke put himself at risk to help another._

" _Hey. Dad," he exclaimed excitedly pointed at the JCB's bucket, fear and tiredness already forgotten, "can we go for another ride?"_

_Holden shook his head in total exasperation, lifting the child to his hip and heading back toward the farmhouse, "definitely not tonight, son. You'll be lucky if I don't ground you for life after this!"_

_..._

"What's wrong?" Holden whispered in her ear, bringing her out of her thoughts.

Lily hadn't even noticed she'd started crying.

Holden pressed his lips to the hollow between her shoulder and her throat, hugging her a little tighter; swayed them gently.

"They whipped him Holden. My little boy..."

"I know."

"What kind of animals are they?" she asked angrily, trying to keep her voice low.

Holden smoothed a hand over her forehead in his attempt to calm her.

"Of all the stupid situations Luke's gotten himself in over the years this…" Lily sniffed, "this is just so…"

"Shh, I know."

Slowly, Holden maneuvered them both to the kitchen; sat her down on a stool. He pulled a few tissues from a nearby box and handed them to her. It wasn't the first time she'd broken down over this and he knew it wouldn't be the last. It was a hard thought for any parent to face.

She took the tissues gratefully, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. "Will he be okay?" She half pleaded.

"Of course," Holden smiled knowingly, kissing the top of her head, "he has Noah."


	4. Chapter 4

All three kids were already dressed in swimsuits for the beach; Nicholas in his blue wet-suit, Ethan in his orange and Mia in her floral pink favorite. All the kids sported bright strips of green sun-block over their noses; something Ethan decided was "extra cool".

"You're looking!" Ethan chastised with a laugh.

"Am not!" Nicholas countered, still giggling.

"Are we ready?" Noah called from the kitchen.

"No," Ethan yelled, pointing at the birthday boy, "Nicky's cheating! He can see!"

Holden, Lily and Luke laughed from where they sat, scattered around the living room.

"No peeping, Nicky," Noah replied, "eyes closed."

Mia pressed her fingers tight together over his eyes; Nicholas squeezed his eyes tight.

"Okay we're ready!" Luke called.

Noah appeared from the kitchen, also dressed for the beach in red board shorts and that electric blue t-shirt that always took Luke's breath away. His eyes literally glowed as they reflected the fabric as well as his mirth. In his hands, Noah carried a long, flat object wrapped in Batman paper.

Everybody oohed and aahed as Noah reached the sofa on which the three children sat.

"Wow, it's big!" Ethan exclaimed.

"What is it," Nicholas yelped with eagerness, "can I look now? Ha? Ha? Can I look?"

Luke cocked an eyebrow at Noah, who returned the unspoken question with a wink. Luke had no idea what was in the parcel. It was definitely larger than any of the gifts they'd agreed to get Nicholas for his birthday.

Luke smiled over at his parents. Both Holden and Lily were enjoying the scene immensely, Holden rubbing his hands fondly up and down Lily's arms as she sipped on a mug of coffee. Luke noticed back on the farm how his parents still referred to each other as husband and wife; even though, legally, they were divorced. He supposed it was out of habit. Truthfully, he loved this about them.

"Okay," Noah sung once the object was placed on the coffee table between them all, "you can look now."

Nicholas' usually expressive eyes blew wider than Luke had ever seen as Mia released her hands from his face.

"That's for me?" he asked in disbelief.

"Aha," Noah nodded,

By now all three children were on their feet, tiny hands smoothing over the paper in anticipation of what lay beneath. Mia looked as though she might burst with curiosity, jumping eagerly from one foot to the other.

"Can I open it?" Nicholas asked in a whisper.

Luke laughed out loud, "That's the whole idea, kiddo!"

He looked up at Noah as his husband's hand came to rest on his shoulder. There was a look in Noah's eyes Luke couldn't quite read. It was almost as if Noah sought comfort in some way, although he wasn't sure what for.

Nicholas was just about to tear into the wrapping when he stopped; looked over at Ethan and Mia; regarding them for a moment.

"Wanna help?" he asked suddenly; receiving enthusiastic nods from both of them.

The adults shared a happy smile at Nicholas's generosity, while the children set about ripping the paper to shreds, revealing beneath a shiny new custom made surfboard.

"Oh my, god," Luke whispered, dropping from the sofa to his knees to get a better look at it. He smoothed his hand over the lacquered surface on which, carefully arranged with great consideration, were various designs he instantly recognized as drawn by Nicholas himself.

"Wow," all three children breathed in unison.

"My pictures!" Nicholas exclaimed.

Luke traced the multicolored blue and green patterns like the waves of the ocean; followed a line of tiny turtles, crabs and seashells crisscrossing vertically up the board. "It's beautiful!" 

"It sure is!" Holden agreed, as he and Lily stood to peer down at the board.

"It's mine?" Nicholas checked again, just to be sure.

"All yours, baby," Noah told him, squeezing his small shoulders and kissing the top of his head, "happy birthday."

"Happy birthday, Nicky," Lily repeated, fondly.

"It's so cool!" Ethan beamed.

Luke stood to his feet, running a hand through is hair. "When did you do all this?" he asked Noah in wonderment.

Noah shook his head. "I didn't."

It didn't take long for Luke to understand. He realized the previous look he'd seen on Noah's face was a kind of sadness. He had only to stare long enough in Noah's eyes to read the answer. He took a deep breath and dropped his gaze to the surfboard. A whispered, "Oh…" blew from his lips like a burn.

"What is it?" Lily asked, feeling the sudden change in atmosphere.

"It's from, Josh," Noah explained.

Understanding, Lily nodded and stepped back into Holden's arms to give the small family some space.

"Josh?" Nicholas asked confused.

Noah squatted by the child and Luke felt tears sting his eyes.

...

_Noah had long abandoned his sound edits in favor of sneaking peeks at Nicholas; knelt on a chair at the other end of the dinner table, industriously working on his next masterpiece._

_Nicholas spent less and less time on drawing now that he'd grown in confidence in his new life; discovered in Mia the joys of having a regular playmate. But drawing was still Nicholas's most favorite hobby, not to mention the best way to get a look inside the child's head._ _And it had become a habit, while Mia was at her therapy session or visiting her father, for him to share the dining table with Noah. They both sat silently working on their individual projects; occasionally stopping for milk and cookies and sharing a fond smile._

_Noah loved to watch him. Nicholas would frown down at the paper, occasionally scratching his cheek and at other times nibbling on the end of whatever colored pencil he happened to be using. Noah could actually hear the cogs turning in his small head as he decided on the lines and shades he'd use next._ _Sometimes the child would mutter or hum softly to himself as he worked. To Noah, it was these sounds especially that made his heart ache in happiness. He would think back to the silent child Nicholas used to be and the first tentative time the boy uttered, "No-ah"._

_He was about to suggest they take a break when a key jiggled in the front door and Josh entered, hair salt wet and slick against his cheeks. He was barefoot, wearing nothing but his blue floral board shorts; since it wasn't a long walk between the house and the beach._

" _Hey, kid," Noah greeted, "how's the surf today?"_

" _Amped," he grinned, "water's extra warm and there was this dude hot-dogging it out there like crazy! I'll never be anywhere near as radical as that!"_

_Josh sauntered over to where Nicholas sat; peered over his shoulder at the drawing, "Beautiful, dude."_

_Nicholas grinned up at his hero._

" _Hey," Josh said, his eyes contemplative, "hang on a sec."_ _He disappeared toward the bedrooms and reappeared with a small sketchbook, which he laid out in front of Nicholas._

" _For me?" Nicholas asked._

" _Yip," Josh replied, "but this is going to be a very special art book. So you can have it if…"_

" _If?"_

_Josh smiled and nodded, ruffling Nicholas's hair. He squatted down next to the chair on which the boy sat; held one hand on the book. "This book is just for patterns, okay?"_

" _Patterns?"_

" _Aha. Like these." He pointed to an area on the paper Nicholas had previously been working on. "I want hundreds like these, okay? All different ones."_

" _Okay," Nicholas agreed._

" _And," Josh continued, "only pictures of the sea."_

_Noah's eyebrows rose. He wondered what Josh was up to, but he didn't feel right asking. He could tell this was something special for the two boys to enjoy._

" _You mean like the beach and stuff?" Nicholas clarified._

" _Exactly! Anything to do with the beach and stuff… fish, crabs, sand... Deal?"_

" _Okay," Nicholas replied, obviously decided that sticking to a theme was a small price to pay for the ownership of a brand new sketchboo, "deal!"_

" _Shake on it?"_

_Nicholas grabbed Josh's hand and they shook; gripped; thumb warred; twiddled their fingers together and broke their hands apart with a throw over their right shoulders._

_Noah smiled at the secret handshake. He made a mental note to tell Luke about it._

...

"Nicky," Noah continued after recounting the tale, "I found the board hidden in the garage. I think Josh had it made for you for your birthday."

Nicholas nodded; smiled as he realized. "The patterns were for my surfboard." His chest puffed out proudly.

"Yes! Yes, I think so." Noah returned the grin, sniffing back his own emotion and hugging Nicholas for a moment.

When he stood back up Luke kissed his cheek, shaking his head. "That kid…"

Noah threaded a hand through Luke's hair. "I know…"

They both released a breath of shuddered air, before Noah pulled back. "Okay, what do you say we try this new baby out?"

"Yes!" All three kids yelled simultaneously.

And suddenly the mood was jovial once more; Ethan and Mia asking Nicholas whether they could have a turn on the board. There was much noise and fuss as they collected towels and bags and headed for the door.

Luke watched sadly. He felt that now familiar kick in his stomach as the door swung open; a blast of warm air blowing in on the wind. His hands started to shake and he quickly stuck them in his pockets to hide how bad it was.

Noah touched his shoulder and he peeled his eyes from the doorway. "You gonna be okay?"

Luke smiled crookedly at Noah. "Yip. I'll get breakfast started."

"I hate leaving you on your own."

Luke shook his head, letting Noah know it was okay. "Today's about Nicky."

"Come on, Noah," Mia called impatiently, "come on!"

Noah grinned and grabbed the surfboard from the coffee table.

"Have fun!" Luke patted Noah's backside on his way out the door.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay here with you?" Lily asked from the doorway with a concerned frown.

"No, Mom," Luke insisted, "go! Enjoy! How often do you get to visit the beach?"

She laughed her agreement and waved as she left.

It was awfully quiet once the door shut behind her.

…

It was early morning but already the sun was beating down warm on their skin. The kids hit the beach running; barely giving Lily and Noah time to help remove their sandals in their excitement to get in the water.

"Feet _only_ until we get there!" Noah called after them. He grinned at Lily. "Nicholas couldn't even swim when he first came to us and now we can't keep him dry!"

Lily laughed. "Mia seems to enjoy it just as much."

"Oh, yes!" Noah agreed. "She had a hard time with the water recently, but really she was made for the beach that one. Apparently her mother had a great love for the ocean. Guess Mia inherited that from her."

"I have to say it's nice to be able to bring Ethan here." Holden added, shading his eyes from the sun as he watched the children running in the distance. "We never really found the time to bring the kids, did we? With the farm and everything else going on."

Lily took Holden's hand. "I know what you mean. Ethan's so lucky to have two such fabulous older brothers."

Noah blushed; smiled shyly. His heart warmed to hear her speak that way.

"We're the lucky ones," he answered; cleared his throat. "So, shell we go?"

"Actually," said Lily, pulling back, "I think I'm going to head back up to the house and spend some time with my eldest. You guys go have fun."

Noah smiled; secretly pleased she'd decided to do so.

Leaving Lily, Noah walked with Holden down the dunes, carefully keeping an eye on the kids to make sure they didn't stray to deep. He shifted the surfboard under his other arm.

"Want me to carry that for a while?" Holden asked and Noah almost laughed; since Holden was already laden with beach gear.

"It's okay," he said, "I think I got it."

They spent an hour frolicking in the waves, trying out the new surfboard. Holden held on Mia, who was still a little nervous about swimming on her own.

The ocean was calm and it was easy for Nicholas to demonstrate how to paddle the way Josh taught him. He seemed pleased to discover this was much easier to do on a surfboard sized for him.

"It's like a turtle!" He smiled. "Josh says that's why the sharks make a mistake sometimes and bite people. 'Cause they think surfers are turtles. That's what Josh says."

"I see," Holden replied with interest, "and you're not scared of sharks?"

Nicholas shook his head, sitting still so Noah could lift Ethan up on the board behind him.

"Why not?" Holden asked. "I'd be scared."

Nicholas found this funny; giggled as they bobbed up and down on a wave. "Josh says it won't happen. So it won't happen."

"Yeah!" Ethan agreed; convinced that the amazing Josh of which Nicholas often spoke, could never be wrong.

After a while, the children grew hungry. Noah and Holden spent some time drying all three off with towels before they babbled noisily all the way home, bursting through the door.

Noah laughed out load at Mia's tale of the time she dropped Pinola in the toilet. She scooted under his arm to enter the door just as he pushed it open. But the joyful laughter died dry in his throat as the air sucked out of his lungs. He halted, shocked, staring into the cold black eyes of Oliver Deagostino.


	5. Chapter 5

Luke flipped the final pancake in the pan, watching as is spat and sizzled. He smiled when his mom rubbed her palm in the small of his back; kissed his cheek.

"You know, you really didn't have to come back," he told her again, although he was secretly glad she had.

"What," his mother joked, "and miss the opportunity to spend some time with my baby?"

Luke laughed. "Um… I hate to break it to you, Mom, but I think you'll find I passed the baby stage quite a few years back actually."

"Not as far as I'm concerned!" she replied, squeezing half a lemon over a pancake and sprinkling the shiny surface with sugar. "You'll always be my baby boy and nothing you say can change that," she rolled the pancake neatly, took a bite and grinned at him, "so there!"

"Now you sound like Natalie!" Luke laughed, turning off the heat and resting the pan to cool. "Why don't you take your breakfast into the other room and let your baby make you a nice brew? We can sit and talk for a while. It feels like a lifetime since we did that…"

"Deal…" she kissed him once more on the cheek; left the kitchen, humming contently to herself.

Luke smiled and shook his head. It was fun spending time cooking with his mom; something they'd never done together before. Mostly because his mother was by far the worst cook alive and he wasn't afraid to tell her so. He laughed out loud; remembered a disastrous dinner years back where she'd tried to be domesticated by cooking a beef dinner. Now _that_ was an experience!

Even Nicholas had learned that it was safer to run if Lily ever got it in her head to cook anything besides eggs. And Nicholas would generally eat anything.

He grabbed two mugs from the cupboard; flipped the switch on the kettle. He was amazed that his mother managed to hold off asking him anything about his current predicament. He was grateful to her for that. These moments when things felt close to normal were rare. He really just wanted to prolong them as much as possible.

The first thing that hit him on his way to the living room, was that the front door was open. He had to swallow back the knock of fear and grip hold of the coffee mugs to prevent spillage. But anything he was feeling dissipated completely when next, he noticed Noah. The man was ashen; silent and still. It looked like he'd stopped breathing.

"…Oliver Lacopo; found to be living under the assumed name of Oliver Deagostino…" The name hit Luke's ears like a hammer and he gasped. His mother had the widescreen television turned on the news, "…dramatic and heart wrenching day in a court room in Torrance…"

Luke's skin crawled at the police mug shot of Oliver, looking stern toward the lens; face bruised and battered from how hard Noah had punched him that night.

"Although we can report on what was said, we are not permitted to broadcast any of the video footage or show any of the horrific photographs discovered in Lacopo's Lakewood apartment…"

Luke could still smell the man's breath; remember the way Oliver's course hands felt when they touched him. But worse than that, he felt the rage for what the monster did to Noah and countless others.

"…raped and fatally beaten…" the broadcaster continued.

"Turn it off..." Luke found his voice. He meant that to be an order but it came out so softly his mother didn't hear him at first.

"What's that, sweetheart?" she asked over her shoulder, distracted by the excited children desperate to tell her about their swim.

"I said turn it off!" he said it louder and far sterner than he intended.

The report continued, "On Friday their killer will be sentenced and family of the victims are expected to attend…"

"I said turn it off, dammit!"

She fumbled a little with the remote but finally the screen went black. "I'm sorry," she said confused, standing from the sofa, "I just thought I'd watch the news while I waited for you to..." For the first time she noticed Noah standing frozen in the doorway, still staring blankly at the screen. She frowned. "Noah, honey?"

Holden stood behind Noah; half in and half out, unable to enter due to Noah blocking the doorway. "You okay, kid?" 

Noah blinked; looked over at Luke for a moment; like he'd just woken up from some dark dream. Luke watched Noah close that part of himself off again; something the man was scarily good at doing. Noah shrugged and shook his head smiling. "What are we all standing around for? Don't we have a party to throw?"

"Yeah!" the kids screamed, oblivious to the adult tension.

Noah collected all three of them; disappeared into the kitchen chatting merrily like nothing had happened.

Luke gazed at the floor; trying to reign in his own emotions; finding it characteristically impossible. He could feel both sets of his parents' eyes on him.

"Luke," Holden asked, "what the hell was that?"

Luke shook his head. "It's nothing for you to worry about."

"Didn't look like nothing."

Luke looked up and pleaded with his father. "It's not up to me to explain. Understand?"

Holden regarded Luke for a moment; his face clouding over but he nodded.

"It's Nicky's day," Luke said, trying to smile it off, "let's… um… let's blow up some balloons!" He moved quickly opened a cabinet drawer where all the party decorations and favors were stored. It was a zoo theme, animal's being one of Nicholas's current obsessions.

Silently, his parents joined him at the dining table. Grabbing a deflated balloon each, they looked over at each other, communicating silently in that same way Luke and Noah often did.

…

Noah opened the front door to smile and sigh at the same time. "Were you invited or did he just call you?"

"Both," Terry winked, hugging him, "he's just worried… that's all…"

Noah nodded as they broke apart. "I know, but… really there's nothing to worry about. I just wish…" He stopped; stared off into the distance.

"You wish…?"

Noah shook his head. "You know… I'm glad you're here. I wanted to ask you something about Luke. He's been-"

"Terry!" Luke greeted across the room, cutting Noah off."

"Hey, Luke!" The therapist grinned, crossing the room to meet Luke, as Noah closed the front door.

"I'm so glad you could make it," Luke told her, squeezing her shoulders fondly.

"Thanks for having me," she replied, "I can't remember the last time I was at a child's birthday party." Her eyes scanned the hanging banners and groups of bright balloons; the table laden with sweets and crisps; various guests already standing around with mugs of coffee; chatting merrily. "Looks like the adults are having fun, but where are the kids?"

Luke laughed. "Outside in the sandpit." He cupped his mouth with one hand as though sharing a secret. "Enjoy the quiet while you can…"

"Oh you!" She smacked him playfully and at the same time handed him a brightly wrapped gift.

"Oh… wow… Terry… Thank you! You really didn't have to bring a gift but I know Nicky will love it!"

Terry shrugged. "It's part of the deal when you come to one of these things… At least that's what my five year old niece tells me…"

"Can I get you a drink, Terry?" Noah asked.

"Cola would be great. Thanks, Noah."

They watched as the tall man crossed the room to where a drinks table had been laid out.

"How's he doing?" Terry asked, quickly.

"Honestly?" Luke replied. "No idea! He seems fine but then this morning… the thing with the TV…"

"You're worried he'd rather pretend this week's not happening…?"

"Yeah…"

"And you?"

Luke blinked. "What about me?"

"You were hurt in all this too, Luke. Oliver may not have raped you but… he came close enough."

Luke watched Noah selecting a glass for Terry; carefully dispensing the cola.

"For me it's just… I guess it's more important that justice is done." He stared down at the gift in his hands, turning the box shape around and around. "It's kinda always been important to me that I go…"

"You go?"

"Yeah… I wanted to go… you know? To the trial?"

"But you were in Africa…"

Before Luke could answer Noah showed up with the drink and handed the glass to Terry.

"Oh that's perfect!" She took a long sip. "It's hot out there today!"

Noah smiled. "Just the way I like it!"

They stood in silence for a moment. Terry noted how Noah seemed to glance anywhere but at Luke.

_Because Luke can read him so well._

"Noah, how about we have a little session while I'm here?" she suggested.

"Now?" Noah asked.

"While I'm here." she repeated.

"Um…" Noah's Adam's apple had a habit of bobbing when he felt worried or awkward.

" _And_ you, Luke…" she added, taking a sip of her drink.

"Me?" Luke asked, surprised.

"Yes," she said, "I think it would be good for both of you..,"

"Everything okay?" An older, dark haired man approached their group with a concerned frown. Terry had noticed him earlier, watching them with interest.

"Oh, yeah, Dad, everything's fine. This is Terry Curtis she's…" Luke's voice cut out when he realized he couldn't explain her presence without opening up a can of worms for Noah, "she's a friend of ours."

Terry looked over at Noah and noticed his look of relief.

_The family doesn't know..._

She added this to her list of things to discuss with them later.

Luke turned to Terry, eyes pleading, "Um, Terry, this is my Dad, Holden Snyder. He and my mother are visiting us from Oakdale this weekend."

Terry stuck out her hand. "Very pleased to meet you, Mr Snyder. You have two fabulous boys here!"

Holden grinned proudly. "Don't we know it! And please, call me Holden. Mr Snyder makes me feel like I'm 80!"

"Oh, I know the feeling! Recently the cashiers in shops have gone from calling me Miss to calling me Ma'am! It's quite a shock to the system!"

Holden laughed loudly. "So, Terry, what's your connection to this little family? They've never mentioned you before?"

Terry had to think quickly. She didn't want to spill things for the boys, but she didn't really want to lie either. In the end it was Noah who rescued her.

"She's our therapist," he said bluntly.

Luke's eyes widened in surprised.

"Oh, I see," Holden replied without flinching.

Terry could tell instantly that the boys had a strong support in this man. More importantly, Noah seemed to trust him. She could use that.

"Yeah," Luke replied, "and… um… actually, Dad? We could use a few minutes alone with Terry. Would you mind looking after the guests and keeping the kids happy?"

"Of course, I will!" Holden exclaimed, patting his son on the back.

"Great," Luke replied, looking over at Terry and Noah, "shall we use the bedroom?"

Noah was the one to nod. He and Luke turned to head that way; Luke with his hands stuck in his pockets like a reluctant schoolboy. Terry smiled at Holden; following the boys. She couldn't help but sense there was still a lot of work to do with these two.

…

"So," Terry began, flopping back into an old sofa they had in the corner of their room, "I followed the news of your African adventure and I read your articles, Luke. You guys must have had quite a scare…"

To be honest she had the fright of her life that morning, when she picked up the paper to see Luke's face plastered on the front.

"That's an understatement…" Noah huffed.

"Yeah, but… we're back now…" Luke began, characteristically trying to brush off the seriousness of the situation.

_Trying to deflect Noah's anger…_

Luke's feet crossed at the ankles as he sat on the end of the bed.

"And what," Noah snapped with an edge to his voice, "everything's great? Back to normal?"

Luke frowned and Terry watched this exchange with interest.

"Is there something else I don't know about?" Terry asked, pressing the pads of her fingers together.

"Um…" Luke hesitated. He looked over at Noah who was standing near the closet. Luke was obviously searching for something, but after not finding it he continued, "since we got home from the farm… I've kinda been… um… stuck… I guess…"

"Stuck?"

"He won't go outside." Noah explained.

"Correction," Luke glared, "I _can't_ go outside. There's a big difference."

Noah breathed deeply; his face softening. He sat down on the bed beside the dejected looking Luke; pulled him into a hug. Speaking with his chin on the top of Luke's head he said, "I know. I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm snapping at you."

"Luke," Terry continued, "when you say you can't go outside… what's stopping you?"

She watched Luke's hazel eyes flutter as he considered this. "I'm scared." He looked up at her. "That's the only way I can explain it."

"And how long has it been this way?"

"About a week."

"It's getting worse too," Noah told her. "He broke into the drinks cabinet."

"I didn't drink any!" Luke was quick to say before she could speak. "I wasn't really thinking straight and Noah wasn't here…"

"I see," she chewed on the inside of her cheek, watching the two men from the lower vantage point of her chair. "Hmm, okay. We're going to have to get some regular appointments in the diary for you, Luke. I'll come here, obviously."

Luke nodded. "And what about Noah."

"What about me?" Noah asked.

"Noah," Terry said, "we should really discuss your feelings regarding the sentencing…"

"What feelings?" Noah questioned, standing to his feet. "Look at me," he indicated to himself, "fine. Solid. Strong. Luke needs this far more than I do right now…"

"He needs therapy, yes, but…"

"Look," Noah stipulated, "I don't want to keep dragging this up! That's all this whole trial business is doing; dragging up what should be kept buried!"

"Okay," she said, "be that as it may, I would still like to see both of you this week," she looked pointedly at Noah, "if that's okay?"

Noah pulled his plaid shirt closed and crossed his arms. "Fine."

"Excellent!" she smiled in triumph, standing up. "Now that's settled, show me to the birthday cake!"


	6. Chapter 6

Noah nervously fidgeted on the large leather sofa outside the small auditorium, where a group of test subjects and sponsors were viewing the first cut of "Rudimentary". He wasn't able to watch it with them; opting to wait outside. To say he was anxious was an understatement. Despite Luke's insistence he had nothing to worry about; Noah continued to struggle with an undercurrent of self-doubt. The fact that this stage in the process should come this week of all weeks, only aggravated the feelings.

_Did I do enough?_

He checked his watch; noted the time. By now the film would be over and the viewers busy with a serious of questions to discuss among themselves.

His phone beeped and he checked the display to find a text message from Luke. "Stop beating yourself up! I know you'll do great!"

Noah's stomach flipped.

_What if they hate it?_

He almost jumped a foot in the air when the door opened and his screenwriter, Harvey Backer, exited the auditorium. Frustratingly, Noah was unable to read anything from the man's bearded face.

"How's it going?" Noah asked, twirling the phone in his hands.

"The viewers loved it," Harvey flatly said.

Noah frowned. "But, that's good, right?"

"Oh, yes, brilliant! Except the sponsors aren't happy…"

Noah felt that sinking feeling. "Why not?"

Harvey sighed. "They think the ending's too depressing. They want it to be upbeat. They want the guy to get the girl… ya know?"

Noah irritably shook his head. "But… this isn't a romantic movie… Nathan's love life isn't the plot point. This is about showing how life doesn't always work out the way you plan…"

Harvey defensively held up both his hands. "Hey, preaching to the choir! I'm the writer, remember?"

"I'm sorry," Noah conceded. "but they're crazy if they think we're going to rewrite the ending! It negates the whole purpose! They can forget it!" He started pacing. "I mean… if overall the audience likes it, then we can argue the case, right?"

"We can try."

Noah stopped to stare out the window at the production lot. He started shaking his hand back and forth. In fact, for some reason he couldn't explain, his entire body was shaking. He felt sick with stress.

"Noah?" Harvey asked; confused my Noah's sudden silence.

"It's not perfect," Noah whispered into the air; so softly Harvey didn't hear him.

"Sorry, what?"

Noah turned and looked at his friend. "It's not perfect."

Harvey laughed. "Well, nothing's perfect, Noah."

When Noah didn't join him in his joviality, Harvey frowned, really looking at the director. His expression fell in worry, "Noah, are okay?"

"It's not perfect."

…

_Noah stood straight and pulled his shoulders back so they didn't slouch. He sucked his tummy flat; put the heels of his feet together and pointed his toes out at 45 degrees from the center to create the perfect V-shape._ _His hands were balled into fists, but not too tight; and he held both arms at his sides with only slightly bent elbows. He faced forward, keeping his chin level with the floor; focused his gaze straight ahead._ _He tried not to let his eyes shift to the right where she stood watching. But he was curious._

" _Eyes forward!" the colonel demanded, catching Noah out on his lack of attention._

" _Yes, sir," Noah replied, correcting his stance._

_He waited until his father completed his inspection of Noah's appearance, as well as the state of the house. This was a weekly ritual on a Saturday afternoon after Noah completed his chores._ _Usually the colonel would find something Noah hadn't completed to task; and Noah would be punished for that. But today the colonel had a visitor; this woman with curly hazel hair that stood frustratingly just outside of Noah's peripheral vision._

_His father was keen to get on with the introductions, so without further ado he released his son with a straight, "At ease."_

_Noah relaxed; for the first time got to really look at the pretty woman standing by the front door, both hands gripping a cream purse._

" _Kacy, I'd like you to meet my son, Noah." Winston placed a hand on Noah's right shoulder and pushed his son forward toward the woman. "Noah, this is my good friend, Kacy Riley."_

_Noah thought Kacy had a nice smile. Her blue eyes sparkled and crinkled up at the sides._

" _Hello, Noah," she said, "I'm so pleased to meet you at last. Your father is obviously very proud of you. He speaks about you all the time."_

 _Noah felt a foreign sort of warmth from that statement. He wanted to ask whether it was true, but he didn't dare._ " _Pleased to meet you, ma'am," he replied instead; taking her hand and shaking firmly._

" _Your father tells me you're seven," she said, "but I can't believe that!" She released Noah's hand and turned to the colonel. "Winston, surely you must be wrong?"_

_Winston's eyebrows raised in question._

_But before he could speak she laughed. "He must be at least twelve? Such an attractive young man already!"_

_Noah beamed from ear to ear. He didn't care if he looked stupid. He liked Kacy instantly._

_Weeks turned to months and Kacy became a firm fixture in their lives; her relationship with Winston Mayer progressing far further than any of the other women the colonel had previously invited to the house._

_In private, the colonel was his usual distant and difficult self. But with Kacy around, he became a completely different person. Noah liked it. He soaked in the affection the colonel showed him, even though he couldn't be sure it was real. If anything, he was confused by it all._

_One day, while he and Kacy were playing a game of snap at the kitchen table, she looked over at him with a serious expression._ " _Noah," she gently asked, nervously tapping the playing cards on the table-top, "how would you feel if I were to move in here?"_

_Noah barely dared to hope. "You mean, live with us?"_

_She nodded. It was clear she was anxious over Noah's response._

_Noah grinned, his lonely heart souring with possibility. "That would be awesome!"_ _He jumped up from the table; threw himself into her arms; drowning in the feeling of being wanted. She cupped the back of his head, pulling him to her._

" _I'm so pleased you're happy, Noah. I wasn't sure how you'd feel."_

_He pulled back to look at her. "What do you mean, Kacy?"_

_She waited a moment and then said, "You know… I'd never try to take her place, don't you?"_

" _Whose?"_

" _Your mom's."_

" _Oh," Noah replied softly; feeling a little guilty that he hadn't even thought about it. Having no memory of his mother he didn't really understand why Kacy seemed so worried, "that's okay."_

_So Kacy moved in and, for a while, Noah began to believe in happy families._

_But he should have known better._

_At the time, Noah was really too young to understand there was only so long the colonel could keep his true nature hidden from his new live-in girlfriend._ _It started small; just the occasional snapping when Kacy got in his way or did something he didn't like. Painful words she let slide. After all, everybody has their off days._

_Gradually it progressed to shoving. The colonel would push Kacy so hard that she often fell over. He'd always apologize afterward; helping her up and promising to change his ways; work on his temper. Telling her she only need tow the line and he'd not be forced into a rage._

_The first time Winston Mayer really hit Kacy Riley, Noah was on hand; helping her hold the ice-pack to her eye. She bravely smiled at him; but the look in her eyes made him tremble inside._

_One night, after a particularly stressful day at work, the colonel came home in a mood Noah hadn't seen in a very long time; but one he recognized instantly._ _Immediately, Noah embodied his submissive state; sliding into the shadow of a corner. But Kacy wasn't so lucky. How could she have known?_

_Noah climbed into the cabinet under the sink to shelter from the raging storm that became the Mayer kitchen that night. He watched his father spit his abuse and beat Kacy to within an inch of her life._ _He stayed in that cabinet for a full hour, shaking with a fear he'd never experience before. His father had a temper, sure. Noah had seen this plenty of times. But never had he witnessed the rage his father inflicted that night._

_He waited until he was sure his father had gone, before crawling over the kitchen floor and curling his body into the sobbing, trembling, bloody heap that was his father's beautiful new girlfriend._ _He woke up before the sun had even clipped the horizon; still lying on the kitchen floor. But Kacy was gone._

_That night was the last time he ever saw her._

_A month later, Noah answered the front door to find two police officers standing there._

" _Hello, young man," one of them said, "is your father home?"_

_He stood outside the sitting room, listening in as they questioned his father over the whereabouts of Kacy Riley. Apparently her family reported her missing and a friend of hers mentioned the colonel. Winston explained how he and Kacy were no longer together and the policemen left._

_So Noah carried on. He fell perfectly in line with this father's schedule and routine and shut his memories of Kacy away. And he was fine. Everything was back to normal. He was perfect._

_But one day, he came home from school to an empty house. He stood in the center of the living room, listening to this father's prized grandfather clock ticking its deep minutes away. His schoolbag dropped to the floor with a thud. When the clock began to chime something snapped and Noah's world went black._

_Until…_

" _Are you listening to me?" The gruff voice was angry._

_Noah blinked; his father's heated face loomed large before him. His upper arms throbbed where his father squeezed them tight as the colonel roughly shook him._

" _What the hell have you done?" His father was yelling at him._

_Disorientated, Noah didn't understand what he'd done to get his father so mad. The colonel screamed at him for a full ten minutes; before throwing his son back into the wall._ _Noah fell like a rag doll to the floor and, for the first time, he saw the state of the room._

_The clock lay on its face across the floor, wooden splinters and glass shattered everywhere. The sofa and chairs were turned over, the cushions ripped to shreds. There wasn't a lamp that had survived the angry frenzy that must have taken place._ _Even the few pictures they had were smashed across the room._

_Noah gasped, tears falling fast._

" _Explain yourself!" Winston screamed, gesticulating at the room._

_But Noah couldn't._

…

The studios were small, but it still took Terry a while before she found the auditorium where Noah said he'd be. After asking three people for directions, she turned a corner and spotted the universal sign for the toilets.

She tapped lightly on the door to the men's; waited a breath, before pushing the door open; cautiously peeping inside. The row of urinals was empty and she sighed in relief.

"Noah?" she called.

"In here." There were three toilet cubicles and the quiet voice seemed to come from the central one.

Peeking under the door she could just glimpse Noah's giant shoes. He was sitting on the floor, leaning up against the stall.

Grateful she'd worn her black trousers that day she slid down the neighboring cubicle door; bent up her knees.

"So…" she prompted, speaking through the closed door, "…I'm pleased you chose to call me, Noah."

She heard a sniff; a slight shuffling sound.

"Why's this happening?" he asked.

She heard him inhale deeply; trying to draw enough air into his lungs to lighten his load somehow. "It was always going to happen sometime, Noah." 

"But… I was fine…" he insisted. "I was."

She fondly smiled, knowing how untrue that was.

"Noah," she asked after a pause, "have you ever said it out loud?"

"Said what?"

"Have you ever told anybody what happened?"

"Yes," he replied, "I told you. I told Luke."

"When you reported the crime… yes, you did. But have you ever actually said those three words?"

"I don't follow."

Speaking very clearly and slowly she said, "I… was… raped."

She actually heard him swallow that time, in that characteristic way of his.

"How's that supposed to help?" he asked. There was a tremor in his voice.

"Because," she replied, "when you can say it, then you've accepted it. Until then… you're simply hiding, Noah."

His head made a loud, hollow thump as it fell back into the cubicle wall. Before he spoke again he banged it back a few times more.

"Shit," he finally whispered. After another few minutes of contemplative silence and in a tone like a small boy he begged, "Please… don't tell Luke about this."

"I won't," she replied, "that'll be your job."


	7. Chapter 7

As if the agoraphobia wasn't bad enough, it began to dawn on Luke that being left on his own was pretty damn terrifying too. His skin crawled; every sound from the outside world sounding twice as loud as it should.

He felt ridiculous. The entire situation was making him feel pathetic and useless.

He'd tried to occupy his mind with working on his book; even spent a while Skyping with their friends back in Africa. But the quiet in the house was slowing building dread in the pit of his gut. He ran through a list of phobias in his head, trying to find one to fit this new feeling; in the meantime reminding himself, that Noah was due home any minute. If he kept concentrating on that fact, he might stave off another panic attack.

Regretting telling his folks he'd be okay while they took the kids to the park, he paced back and forth, as close to the front door as he dared. Luke glanced once more at the cell phone clutched in his hand, willing it to ring or beep or anything! Trying to call Noah throughout the afternoon had, oddly, yielded no response.

This didn't help to steady his nerves.

He froze as keys turned in the lock; took an unconscious couple of steps backward; air catching in his throat.

Noah's reassuring eyes held his and Luke calmed almost instantly. He waited until Noah fully closed the door, before surging forward; meeting Noah halfway.

"So," Luke inquired, wringing his hands as he walked, "how was it? How'd it go?"

He found himself enveloped tightly within Noah's lengthy arms only a second after Noah's rucksack hit the floor. Luke smiled and squeezed back; enjoying the moment and waiting for Noah to break the embrace – fill him in…

But Noah didn't.

A full five minutes past and the man didn't move or make a sound.

Concerned, Luke softly asked, "Everything… okay… Bubby?"

He felt a shudder pass through the long body pressed against his own. He gently pushed Noah back. But the man was quick to hide his face.

"They didn't like it…" he tapered off.

"What?" Luke was astounded. "No… I'm sure you've got that wrong! I'm sure that they-"

But Noah patted Luke's arm, breaking away toward the bedroom, muttering something about going for a jog.

Luke knew this mood; at least well enough to know that pushing would only make it worse. So he ignored his natural instinct to step in;uttered a simple and quiet, "Okay."

Noah stopped as he neared the hallway. It was as though he'd just remembered something. He turned, eyes scanning the room; searching, listening.

Luke softly smiled. "Mom and Dad took them out."

Noah nodded. "Good. That's good." Then he vanished down the hall.

…

The promenade pounded under his feet; late afternoon sunshine hot; biting his skin, despite the noticeable chill in the strong wind whipping up off the waves. A group of joggers nodded in greeting as Noah past; by now familiar with the long-legged runner. Usually Noah would wave in greeting or stop to chat. But today, he barely registered them.

His brain burned with the same dry heat as his working lungs. This new memory gripped hard and refused to let go; snapping at synapses and nerves left dormant for years; opening yet another of those damnable doors he'd closed for protection; for survival. This door was well and truly booted in. It hung; swinging on its hinges; the constant squeak hollow and echoing in his ears; driving Noah to distraction.

He tried to listen to his footfalls instead. He tried to fix the door – imagined barricading it with furniture; a chair, a dresser…

Anything…

He battled to get back to…

…to normal…

…to perfection…

Before he knew it, he was back at the house, bursting through the door. He felt a strong pang of guilt when his quick entry made Luke jump, but he was exhausted. He collapsed flat on his back, the carpet hot and tickling against his sweat-soaked skin. The air wheezed past his lips to silent the scream inside his burning lungs. His chest heaved high with each intake; he gasped as he exhaled. He flung one forearm up over his forehead; rested his right hand on his lower abdomen; struggling to settle himself. By now his head thumped in rhythm with his heart; painful and heavy.

He felt the body lie down beside him, curl into him and rest it's head on his chest. Noah sighed; dropped his arm to clench his fist in the shirt at Luke's lower back. He stroked gently as his mind continued to uncontrollably whirl.

"I called Harvey Backer, because I was sure you had it wrong," Luke whispered into Noah's shirt. "He says they loved it. One of the audience members told him they hadn't watched anything so profound in years. Just because the sponsors want you to rethink the ending, doesn't mean they hated it…"

Noah coughed. But he didn't say anything. Luke could never understand…

"Can I help?" Luke's request was tentative; feeling the way with caution born from experience.

"What?" Noah pretended. It was always easier to deny than face what was truly being asked of him.

"This thing…"

_Stop!_

"…this thing that's worrying you and everything with Oliver and-"

Noah quickly hopped up, leaving Luke sitting on the floor. "I need to shower."

He paused when he saw the earnest look on Luke's face. Luke's lower lip was drawn between his teeth.

"I'm fine," he said, hoping it would be enough, even as he suspected it wasn't.

Luke stood, shaking his head. "I don't think you are."

Noah blinked; swallowed; felt a familiar anger and frustration building. That feeling that reminded him of his father and terrified the hell out of him at the same time.

He didn't want this feeling! He couldn't control this feeling if it should ever be unleashed.

"Something's eating away at you and-"

It was all becoming too much; piling up…

"I need to shower." Noah turned to indicate the conversation as over. He had to get out of there.

"Please don't do this…" the voice was so plaintive it dug a hole through Noah's chest.

Without turning Noah's voice quivered as he said, "I don't know what it is you want me to tell you."

"Tell me what's wrong with you."

For some reason those words were like a match. They sparked something deep inside and lit the fuse he was trying so desperately to keep hidden from the world. There was so much residual anger left over from the past; he knew Luke was too fragile to be on the receiving end of. It was the very reason why Noah had tried to ignore everything – let it go. But it was too late now. Too big…

Things blazed red. He spun on Luke. "You think there's something wrong with _me_?"

Luke's eyes were round and wet with the beginnings of tears. "Let me call Terry. Maybe she can come by and-"

"What," Noah scathed, "fix me?"

"Noah-"

"Because _I'm_ the one with the problem, right? It's me, right?" Anger was driving him now. Anger and white flashes of memory he struggled to forget. "You don't have any problems?"

"I didn't say-"

Noah roughly pointed at the sliding door; once again cutting Luke off. "You refuse to go outside, but that's not a problem in your eyes? Apparently _I'm_ the one with the issues?"

It was a standoff; Luke at a loss what to say or do; Noah puffing and growling with frustration. Everything went silent; seemed to magnify down to just this moment; walls stretching out and blurring sideways.

"Go outside!" Noah eventually commanded. If he could get Luke to go outside, then he could start to fix everything.

Luke shook his head.

"I want you to go outside!" Noah demanded again. "I want you to go outside right now and show me just how okay you are!"

"You know I can't..."

Red erupted.

The next few minutes vanished behind a black curtain of sheer rage; a blur of muffled shouts, a scuffle, fingers digging painfully into his arms, a door sliding; slamming shut. His chest hurt, his head pounded. When Noah next came to his senses, he was eye to eye with Holden, heaving and shaking and utterly confused.

Holden, Lily and the children stood at the front door, regarding Noah with astonishment. Holden's eyes flicked over Noah's right shoulder, through the glass door and out into the garden.

Noah blinked hard; the room coming back into focus.

The look on Holden's face turned Noah's heart to black ice. "Noah…?"

Noah broke. Realization slammed into him. He stumbled backward. "Oh, Jesus!" He spun; hurtling for the sliding door, thumping it open; jumping the wooden steps of the decking to reach the crumpled, shivering heap he'd dumped outside like it was nothing.

Sickness swallowed him; he almost threw up.

As Noah slid to his knees beside Luke, Luke fought the hands that attempted to help him up; realized they belonged to Noah. Then he clutched at Noah's clothing; clinging to him for dear life and gasping out his name.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry…" The repeated words tumbled from Noah's lips like an avalanche. He pulled Luke to his feet; staggered back inside.

It was only once they reached the sofa and Holden had closed the sliding door that Luke pushed Noah back; the look on his face, one of terrified disbelief and utter fury.

Noah felt like he was slowly dying. Another "I'm sorry" formed on his lips; but he couldn't get the words out. They were pitiful - powerless to make up for this. The words choked him, drowning in the tears that fell freely now. He stepped forward; reaching out.

Without saying anything, Luke held up his hands in a stop motion, turned and headed down the hallway. They heard the bedroom door slamming.

Noah dropped – the sheer weight of everything crashing into him.

"Lily, why don't you take the kids outside?" he heard Holden say.

Holden squat down by his son-in-law; squeezing his shoulder. The touch was instantly comforting; but made Noah feel sick with guilt at the same time. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve any of them.

"Why did I do that?" Noah asked him.

Holden shook his head. For once the wise man seemed at a loss for words that would provide any kind of explanation or comfort.

Noah pressed his face into both hands and cried. Holden remained still, until Noah pulled back and stood, stumbling to grab his cell phone from his rucksack. He dialed the number with shaky fingers.

"Noah?" As he heard her voice through the phone, he realized Terry was waiting for his call. He began to wish he'd taken her up on her offer to accompany him home that night. Maybe all this could have been prevented. "Noah?"

He struggled to speak; his lips shivered; making the formation of words difficult.

Holden took the phone from Noah's fingers; checked the display and said, "Terry, hi, it's Holden Snyder here. I think we have a situation over at the house. Any chance you could stop by?"

Holden confirmed the details with Terry. Noah felt himself being led to the spare bedroom and helped onto the bed.

"What have I done?" he whispered into the pillows; cotton covers already bleeding dark with tears.

Holden soothed Noah's arm; squeezing gently. "Rest. We'll figure this all out later. I promise. Just rest."

"Will you help, Luke?"

Holden smiled, "Already on my way."

Noah's eyes drooped closed. "Tell him… tell him…"

"I know. I will," Noah heard Holden pause by the doorway, "and, Noah, he knows…"

…

Fear.

It was the undercurrent of everything these days; thrumming under his skin. And it was enough to overshadow the burning anger he felt for what Noah had done.

Luke didn't want the children to notice him moving down the passage. He could hear them shouting and giggling; playing some or other game with Holden and Lily. He tiptoed; quietly pressed the handle down and slowly pushed to open the spare bedroom door; minimizing any squeak that might alert the household to his wakefulness.

He was careful to shut it. Silent and still, he crossed the dark room; crawling onto the bed and burying himself in the safety of the slumbering body of his husband.

Noah sniffed; long limb hooking over Luke and pulling him in; tear-streaked face snuffling into Luke's neck; hands clenching at him.

Luke stroked Noah's hair; allowed sleep to take him.

…

Noah tucked his bare feet up under himself; scratched the side of his head. He rested back with one elbow on the arm of the sofa. Luke sat at the other end, his knees pulled up to his chest; regarding Noah with a soft frown. Both had recently showered. Their hair was damp and they both wore sweats and worn t-shirts, looking like two scared little boys.

Terry perched on the coffee table between them, watching them both in turn. She'd never seen them sit this far apart before.

"So," she said all of a sudden, making both men jump, "who wants to start?"

Noah looked at Luke. Luke looked at Noah. But neither of them spoke.

Terry leaned back on her hands, drumming her fingers on the tabletop. Eventually, she sat back up. "Okay, why don't we start with one of you telling me what happened here tonight?"

Of course she had already gotten the full story from Holden. But it was important to hear it directly from Luke and Noah.

"I don't know what happened," Noah muttered.

"Yes, you do," Luke's response was quick; surprising them both. He dropped his feet to the floor and sat up to better make his accusation. "You _do_ know! I tried to help you and instead of letting me, you went all Noah-ballistic on my ass!" Luke folded his arms and ducked his head in a huff. "Typical!"

Terry waited a moment, studying Luke with interest. Then she turned back to Noah. "Noah, what did you do?"

Noah sniffed and shook his head; profound regret clear, as his forehead creased with concern in Luke's direction.

"Noah," Terry tried again, "you called me, remember?"

Noah nodded.

"I can't help you guys if you aren't willing to talk."

"He wants me to talk about things I'm not ready to," Noah snapped. "He's relentless!"

Luke made an angry sound like a snort.

"So," Terry pushed, "what did you do?"

"I threw him outside, okay?" Noah stood and began pacing behind the sofa. "I didn't mean to! I'm not proud of that! But sometimes I really-" He quickly clammed up, slamming his lips shut in a thin line; folding his arms around himself like a cocoon.

"Finish that sentence, Noah."

Noah looked at Terry like she was insane. "I can't."

"Finish," she softly prompted. "I promise you… Luke will still be here when you do. He loves you. He's not going to go anywhere."

Noah gave her a surprised look; like he thought she might be capable of reading minds. It seemed to put him on edge and he stepped back a few strides.

"Sometimes you really what…?" Luke asked, standing to his feet, moving around the back of the sofa in Noah's direction. He was beginning to realize this exchange was important somehow.

"I can't!" Noah told him, gritting his teeth.

"Just say it."

"No."

"Come on, Noah," Luke took a few steps closer, "say it."

"No!"

"Just fucking say it!" Luke shouted.

Noah threw his arms in the air. "Okay, fine! Sometimes, I really _hate_ you! Okay? Are you happy now?"

In all her years as a psychologist, Terry had never seen a man display his feelings as openly as Luke Snyder. His face was an open book most of the time; and now was no exception. She watched as the wind knocked out of him; eyes glassy; gaping; lost for words; hurt.


	8. Chapter 8

Fifteen minutes.

Thirty.

Luke quietly sat cross-elbowed on the arm of the sofa; back to Noah. His shoulders slumped; eyes lowered. A feeling wriggled under his skin, terrifyingly similar to one he’d experienced during their darkest days; when Noah was blind and totally closed off to him; an old, yet shockingly familiar insecurity.

Noah had long succumbed to the floor. He pressed his back against the front door, forearms resting atop bent knees. His shivering fingers slowly twisted the shiny wedding ring; the only thing he seemed able to focus on.

Terry adjusted herself on the coffee table. It creaked loudly in the stillness; the movement startling Luke. He’d forgotten she was there. He read something in her eyes; she bobbed her head in Noah’s direction. Luke glanced over his left shoulder to regard the pitiful stance of his other half. He watched Noah carefully for the beat of a minute; face softening.

Sighing, Luke padded over to the door; slid down beside his husband, their thighs slightly touching.

Noah jolted; not expecting the gesture. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Luke; pressed both his hands tightly between his thighs; afraid he’d reach out to touch Luke.

“Okay,” Luke simply said; part whisper.

“Okay?” Noah was incredulous, cocking his head at Luke.

Luke nervously rubbed the side of his own thigh. “Well… yeah… We’ve been over this before. I _know_ what I’m like. I’m difficult and spoiled and I’m used to getting my own way. And I don’t listen… especially when I should… I know all of that. I get what you mean… when you say you…” he swallowed as the word tasted bitter in his mouth, “…hate me… sometimes I even hate myself and…”

“That’s not it…” Noah quickly interrupted.

Luke frowned, dumbfounded. “It’s not?”

Noah sadly shook his head; took a deep breath before saying, “You have a way of forcing things out of me. Most of the time that’s a good thing… but… it can also make me crazy and… sometimes I… and then…” A loud shot of air puffed from Noah’s lungs. He cast his eyes over Luke’s face with such fear in his features that Luke instinctively reached for Noah’s hand; wrestled it loose from its wedged position between Noah’s knees.

But Noah pulled back from Luke. “I’m gonna end up hurting you again…”

“Noah… no…” Luke knew what this was; Noah’s patent defense systems activated and in operation. Truth was he didn’t know what to do. It seemed no matter how much he told Noah he was worthy of love, a part of Noah still refused to believe it.

“No?” Noah loudly spat. He jumped to his feet; turning with a scrape of fingers through his hair. “Luke!” He released a cry of frustration. “ _Look_ at what just happened! Look what I did! And it’s not the first time…” He flopped, lost, against the back of the sofa; eyes lowered as he once again fiddled with the ring on his finger. “It’s like I want this to work so badly, that in the end… I slowly kill it. Just like before…” He began to tremble, tears forming as he stared down at Luke. “It’s just like before.”

Luke understood. He’d always struggled to get Noah to open up, especially when Noah preferred to keep his thoughts and, worse, his feelings, hidden. There was something bothering the man; and, as was his way, Luke pressed too hard in his desperation to help. Luke stood to approach Noah now; quickly taking shadowed cheeks in his palms. “Stop this… please…”

“Don’t you understand?” Noah pleaded, gripping Luke’s wrists tight enough to burn. “He’s inside of me, Luke!”

Luke felt his insides ache.

“I feel him there laughing at me, telling me I told you so...” Noah continued. “That’s why… it’s why I _have_ to get it right. It _has_ to be perfect. _Everything!_ You understand? The way he’d never expect it to be, so that…”

“So that he can be proud of you?” Luke struggled to hide the slight annoyance in his tone.

“No!” Noah released Luke and took a step back. “No! So that he doesn’t beat me! So he doesn’t win!”

Luke’s whole body seemed to droop with tiredness. Were they really back here? Full circle? When would they be rid of the colonel’s shadow in their lives?

As if reading his mind Noah said, “I’m more like him than either of us wants to admit.”

“No,” Luke insisted.

“Yes,” Noah maintained, “and because of that, we can never be rid of him…”

Feeling completely helpless, Luke searched the room for answers, finally settling on a question instead. “Where is all this self-doubt coming from? I thought we were done with this. Noah… why have you let him back into our lives?”

Noah’s eyes darted around, eventually settling on Terry; almost pleading for her to step in and stop this line of questioning. But she remained silent; returning his gaze; slightly nodding for him to continue.

“Tell me,” Luke sternly said, “’cause this is more than just the sentencing or your film… or the way I’ve been… Something else is going on here… You promised you would try, remember? Back when I first knocked on your door… No more running.”

Noah nodded.

Luke cocked his head. “Let me help... Please…”

“I don’t know if you can. Not with this.”

Luke slowly closed the gap between them. “Okay, so we discover you’re right and I can’t help,” he reached out to take hold of Noah’s hand; this time Noah let him, “but I can listen. I can be here. You don't have to get through these feeling by yourself.”

A tear rolled down Noah’s face. He dropped his eyes to their joined hands. “I think my father murdered someone.”

Luke blinked. That wasn’t what he expected to hear at all. “Yeah…” he said confused, “he did. We know that… so…”

Noah lifted his head. “Not just… not just my mom and…”

“What are you saying?”

Noah drew a shaky breath. “What if my mother wasn’t the only one? He tried to kill you, after all… I’ve been having these flashes. Ever since Africa… and… Today it seemed to make sense.” Shaking with regret, Noah continued, “I let it happen. I let him get away with it because a part of me didn’t want to believe he could…”

Time passed. They found themselves sitting back up against the front door; Noah leaning back into Luke’s comforting arms.

Impatient with the sudden lag in conversation, Luke whispered into Noah’s ear, “Tell me…”

“This woman my dad was seeing…” Noah continued with a sigh. “Her name was Kacy… Kacy Riley. She moved in when I was eight and she was amazing.” He smiled at the memory. “For a while, I really believed things were gonna be okay. And Dad seemed… happy even...” He told Luke the story as best he remembered. He stopped after recalling that last night with Kacy; with the blood and the screaming.

Luke was silent with shock by the end of it; cheeks glistening with tears at the thought of all Noah had been through. “God, Bubby…”

“I never told anybody… Not even when the police came. I just said she left.”

Luke hugged Noah close. “You were scared, Noah… It’s okay… You were a scared little kid.”

Noah gripped Luke’s crossed arms like a life preserver. “Luke, I don’t hate you.”

“I know...” Luke pressed a few soft kisses into Noah’s shoulder blade in reassurance. It was a catalyst that seemed to break through to Noah, causing a flood of wreaked tears Luke could do nothing but hold him through.

It was impossible to tell how long they sat there for. It was Terry that broke the silence. “Luke?” she whispered.

“Yeah?” Luke sniffed.

Terry smiled at him. “You did a good job.”

Luke looked down at Noah, surprised to find him fast asleep; chest moving rhythmically beneath the thin cotton of his shirt. “He’s worth it.” 

“Seems this may have been therapy for you, too…”

Luke looked up at that. “How so?”

Her smile turned into a grin, white teeth dazzling in the lamplight. “Look where you are…”

He blinked and felt a shiver as realization hit him. This whole time, he was so focused on Noah, he failed to notice his proximity to the front door.

“How do you feel?” Terry asked.

“A little nervous now that you’ve made me aware of it.”

“Do you feel like you want to move?”

Luke sat still for a moment, assessing his reaction. He glanced down at Noah, smiling and shaking his head. “No,” he replied, “I feel fine.”

“Well,” Terry said, slapping her thighs and getting to her feet, “I’d say this has been a successful session then.”

“Will you look into what Noah said,” Luke quickly asked, as Terry made a move to leave, “about this Kacy person and the colonel?”

Terry nodded. “I’ll speak to some guys I know on the force. In the meantime, I think you should get yourselves to bed. Tonight’s been a trial on both of you.”

…

“It’s just a door.” Luke cocked his head at the wall of glass a few feet before him.

All was quite and dark in the house. The clock on the mantle chimed 3 am; Luke jumped slightly.

“Just the clock, stupid!” Luke knocked himself over the head for emphasis. Then he readied himself once more. “It’s just a door,” he reminded himself for the umpteenth time. “It’s just a door that leads out into your garden… in Los Angeles… where you live… with Noah.” He softly smiled as that thought warmed him through. “Which is why you have to do this!” With determination, he took a step forward. But that freaked him out entirely and he ended up two steps back. “Fuck!” he softly swore; conscious of the sleeping household. Again he concentrated on the world outside the house. 

_Maybe it's too dark?_

He made his way across the room until he could plaster himself to the wall. Then, slowly, inch by inch, he slid himself closer to the exit; until he could reach out his arm and flip the switch for the outside lamp. It came to life in a misty glow that Luke prayed wouldn’t wake anybody. But he definitely felt better now that he could see the decking outside, as well as a thin sliver of freshly mowed lawn.

“Thanks, Dad,” he smiled at the memory of Holden pushing the mower up and down that afternoon; under the ever watchful and curious blue eyes of Nicholas. “That’s right,” Luke told himself, “this is for the kids. Think about Noah and the kids.”

Taking another deep breath, he began the agonizing journey toward the outside. Instantly sweat began to bead and drop down the side of his neck. His body flamed and yet shivered; making his movement ever more wobbly and uneven.

He wanted a drink _so_ badly!

That thought scared him senseless and suddenly he was in full blown panic; gasping for air; desperate to move and yet frozen to the spot.

“Shitshitshitshit…” he muttered under his breath; willing himself to backtrack to safety.

His feet shifted like leaden tombstones. But he made it to the nearest armchair; fell back into it with an angry frustration. He would have cried had a shuffling of little feet not caught his ear. Looking up, he spotted Mia, like a breath of fresh air; innocently watching him from the doorway; ever present rabbit grasped tightly in her right hand.

Forcing a smile, Luke said, “Hey… What are you doing up, hmm?”

She tiredly shrugged; eyes drooping with sleep.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

She shook her head; eyes hopeful.

“Me either… Wanna sit with me?”

She smiled wide; made her way over to Luke; crawling up on his lap and laying her head on his chest.

He was still shaking from his efforts to overcome his fear, but felt instantly better. The child always seemed to have that effect on people. Her quiet, calming aura filled the room and he hugged her close; conscious she had no way of knowing just how much he needed her there.


	9. Chapter 9

Luke opened heavy eyelids to an empty bed; just a Noah-shaped crease left in the sheet beside him. He rolled lazily over to check the clock.

05:03

Noah’s early-rising habit was drummed into him since birth. It came from growing up in a military lifestyle with an anal-retentive father. But over the months, Luke’s laid-back habits had begun to rub off on the young director. Lately, Noah enjoyed a few more minutes in bed; especially if those few minutes included cuddling under the sheets.

So even for Noah, this was earlier than he’d usually rise on a work day.

Luke yawned, stretched and dozed in bed for five minutes. The sleepless night was taking its toll, his heart felt heavy with everything that came to light. As much as he would have loved a few more hours of slumber, he was eager to check on his husband; make sure Noah was coping after all that had happened with Terry.

He groaned as he found his feet and shuffled to the bathroom; scratching an itch on his outer-thigh. The shower was wet and Noah’s towel damp. Luke left his shorts in a puddle on the floor and stepped into a lukewarm shower; spots of cold water blasting away the sand in his eyes and refreshing his skin. He shivered, but didn’t turn up the heat. He needed the tiny icy blasts to wake him up.

***

Dressed, Luke sauntered into the kitchen; wasn’t surprised to find his father already there. The older man sat at the counter in his light blue pajamas; morning edition of Luke’s newspaper spread open before him.

“Oh, my god,” Holden teased, “quick, get out the camera! Luke Snyder… up before the sun!”

“Ha… Ha…” Luke scoffed.

“Interesting article today, son,” Holden complimented, lifting his coffee mug in mock toast.

“Thanks, Dad,” Luke smiled. “Um, have you seen Noah?”

Holden frowned over the rim of the mug. He placed the cup down, licking foam off his corner lip. “I thought he was asleep.”

Luke breathed a little too loudly.

“Something wrong?” Holden asked.

Luke considered for a moment, but shook his head. “No,” he said, reaching inside the top shelf for a clean coffee mug, “I’m sure it’s fine. Maybe he just went for a run to clear his head.”

“Tough session with Dr Curtis, ha?”

Luke sadly nodded. “He’s really struggling, Dad. And I feel terrible, because, until last night, I didn’t realize how much…”

Holden stood; gently squeezed his son’s shoulders.

“I’m so damn selfish,” Luke continued, shaking his head in dismay. “I’ve been so wrapped up in the whole Uganda thing, you know? Getting the word out there!” Luke grabbed the newspaper off the counter; scrunching it slightly in his fist before banging it back down with a thud. “I should have paid more attention.”

“Luke,” Holden rubbed his son’s back thoughtfully, “I’m not gonna lie, you messed up this time. And it hurts us to see Noah so worried for you; especially when you’ve caused most of your own suffering…”

“Gee, thanks, Dad.” Luke crossed his arms and glared at his father. “Is this supposed to be making me feel better?”

Holden smiled. “I’m proud of you for making a stand when others need help. I’ve always been proud of you for that. I’m not saying the situation is _all_ your fault… Noah still needs to learn to let go of that emotional control he has over himself. It’s not easy to help him when he closes himself off so much. Whenever he does that, it almost always ends up in an explosion like we witnessed last night.”

“Yeah, but at least he’s talking to _you_ about stuff now… I just wish he’d talk to me…”

“ _Some_ stuff…” Holden reminded Luke; glancing knowingly at his son.

After the incident with the news broadcast, Luke should have known it wouldn’t take long for his astute father to put two and two together.

Luke sighed; glancing away so Holden couldn’t read the truth there. “Yeah…”

He poured himself coffee from the fresh pot Holden made; staring out at the early morning dew glinting like tiny diamonds on each blade of grass.

“What are you thinking?” Holden asked, returning to his seat at the counter.

“I’m wondering what time he went out…” Luke sipped on the warm drink as he considered this. “How long have you been up for?”

“Not long,” Holden admitted, “fifteen minutes maybe.”

Just to be sure (and because something was niggling inside his brain) Luke searched the house; only to discover that Noah’s truck keys, wallet and cell phone were all missing.

“He’s already left the house for work?” Holden asked.

Without replying, Luke located his phone and dialed for Noah.

Holden watched him. “Voicemail?” he asked when Luke’s face fell.

Luke nodded, waiting for the automated voice to finish so he could leave a message. “Hi, Noah, it’s me. Could you call when you get this?”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Holden insisted, as soon as Luke hung up, “just had an early shoot or something…”

“They’ve finished filming, Dad.”

“Well, maybe he’s getting in some early edits? He’ll call back.”

“Yeah...” Luke wished he could be certain of that.

…

When the phone finally rang an hour later, it wasn’t Noah’s voice to greet Luke as he answered it.

“Hi, Luke,” Harvey Becker sounded apologetic, “I’m sorry to bother you at home. Is Noah with you by some chance? We’re due in a meeting and he’s not shown up for work yet…”

That heavy feeling Luke had all morning swelled and sank to his feet.

“He isn’t there?” Luke clarified, struggling to hold the phone to his ear as he fried eggs for the children’s breakfast.

“Not seen him,” Harvey replied, "and this meeting’s kinda urgent…”

“He left before I woke up.” Luke’s mind raced through all the possibilities, but couldn’t come up with anything plausible enough to explain Noah’s out of character behavior.

“Luke, you still there?” Harvey’s voice sounded anxious after Luke’s long silence. “Look… I’m sorry if I’ve worried you… It’s just not like Noah…”

“No,” Luke agreed. “No it’s not.” He scanned the empty kitchen as though mentally willing Noah to suddenly appear. The eggs started to sizzle madly as they lay forgotten in the hot pan. Luke jumped into action. “Shit!” he grimaced; burning his finger as he quickly pulled the pan from the heat.

“You okay there, Luke?” Harvey worriedly asked.

“Yes,” Luke replied, turning off the stove top. “Yes, sorry about that. Just burned some eggs… Um… Do you think you can manage the meeting without him?”

“I’m not sure…” Harvey honestly replied. “These backers are really only here to meet Noah and…”

“Just cover for him,” Luke begged. “Noah’s been dealing with some private stuff and I think he may have taken some time without telling us…”

“He didn’t seem himself yesterday…” Harvey agreed, growing quiet on the other end of the line as he considered whether to voice his next thought. “It’s this trial, right?”

Luke sighed, rubbing at a throbbing pain developing in his right temple. He supposed it was only natural that people at the studio would talk.

“Yes… among other things…” he replied; closing his eyes to the immensity of it all.

“I’m sorry things are hard right now…” Harvey said. “Of course, I’ll do my best. I’ll just explain that he’s ill or… Don’t worry, I’ll come up with something…”

As Luke thanked Harvey and hung up, Holden returned from helping Lily get the children dressed.

“That was Noah’s screenwriter,” Luke explained, “Noah’s not at work, Dad.”

Holden’s features shadowed. Luke could see the man’s thoughts twirling; just as Luke’s were.

Quickly, Luke redialed Noah’s cell, praying the man would pick up this time. But as before, the call went straight to voicemail; and again, Luke left a message.

“Where is he, Dad?” Luke asked; becoming desperate.

As if Noah cosmically heard Luke, the phone in his hand beeped and vibrated.

“Noah’s sent a text!” Luke told Holden with relief.

“What does it say?”

Luke clicked the ‘open’ button and read, “I’m okay. I need to find her. Don’t worry. I Love you.”

“What does that mean?” his father asked. “Any ideas?”

Luke opened his mouth to reply, but was silenced when the doorbell rang.

“Hold that thought…” Holden said; leaving the kitchen to answer it.

Luke wondered whether his father could hear how loud his heart was pounding. He wanted to beg Holden not to open the door; but he wiled himself not to. “It’s fine,” he whispered under his breath.

When Holden finally reached the door, Luke was astonished to hear Terry’s voice.

“Morning, Doctor,” Holden said; obviously just as surprised as his son. “What brings you here so bright and early?”

“Morning, Mr Snyder. I hope I caught Noah before he left for work.”

“Terry,” Luke smiled; leaving the safety of the kitchen only after Holden closed the front door, “you missing us already?”

“Nice to see you too, Luke.” Terry jeered.

Luke laughed. “You know that’s not what I meant! Of course you’re welcome anytime you like.”

Terry gave Luke a one-armed hug in response; shrugged off her satchel bag and dropping it onto one of the sofas. “Is Noah home?”

“Well, actually…” Luke began.

But Terry cut him off. “I was so curious about the story Noah told you last night, I went straight from here to the office.”

“And?” Luke asked, intrigued; sensing Terry had found something.

“Is he here?” she questioned again.

Luke shook his head. Terry glanced in Holden’s direction before raising questioning eyebrows at Luke.

“You can talk in front of my father, Terry.” Luke accented.

“Well, I found information on the investigation into the disappearance of Miss Kacy Riley. Colonel Winston Mayer _was_ listed as her partner at the time. He was questioned, just as Noah said.”

“Wait a minute,” Holden spoke up. “Back up… What is this all about?”

Luke spent a few minutes filling Holden in on what Noah had revealed during their session with Terry.

“God…” Holden whispered with horror, “that poor kid…”

“So,” Luke turned back to Terry, “what else?”

“Well, it was Kacy’s sister, Eleanor Crane, who reported her missing. The sister was convinced Mayer had something to do with it. A week before she went missing, Kacy confided in Eleanor that the colonel was violent. From what her sister said in the report, Kacy was frightened for her safety. Eleanor advised her to leave him.”

“But we know she didn’t…” Luke grimly said, “and now Noah’s run off to prove it!”

“What?” Terry’s head snapped round.

“Noah went missing this morning,” Luke explained. “He’s just sent me a text saying he needs to find her.” Then a thought came to him. “The report doesn’t happen to say where the Mayer’s were living at the time, does it?”

“Yes, it does,” Terry confirmed. “And that’s not all it says…”


	10. Chapter 10

Noah’s northward drive was focused. He didn’t notice his phone buzzing on the dash until the fourth message left by Luke. He felt guilty as hell ignoring him, but to answer he’d have to stop driving; and that wasn’t an option. A part of him feared he’d change his mind and turn around if he did. 

But he had questions that needed answers. 

That morning he spent thirty minutes watching Luke sleep; lightly feathering the man’s blonde curls with his fingers. He vowed that nothing like what happened the night before would ever happen again. Even if it killed him, he was going to find a way to deal with the darkness inside of him; before he destroyed his life and took his family down with him. 

Back when everything went down with is father; when his father put Luke in a wheelchair; when Detective Hughes broke the news that the murdered Charlene Wilson was Noah's mother; accepting Winston was a killer hadn’t been easy for Noah. He’d always thought his revelation at being gay was the catalyst to send his father into mental instability.  Of course he’d always feared his father; always known his father was capable of violence. As a child and even as a young man, that violence was simply part of life. Noah grew adept in the game of avoidance; if he could prevent his father’s anger, he could prevent a beating. So he always did right; obeyed the rules. By the time he hit his teens, he considered his father’s idea of discipline as normal. 

Mostly this was an innate need he had to believe his father loved him; that the violence was nothing but a father’s desire to shape his son into a decent person. But then Luke came along and, just like an atomic bomb, blew that idea into the water; opened Noah’s eyes to truth. 

But now, with this new memory of Kacy, Noah would have to face that his father’s mental instability may always have been there, even before the colonel found out Noah was gay. Worse than that, Noah had to face that he may well be the son of a serial killer.  The mere thought sent shivers down his spine. Because if his father was _this_ violent, _this_ evil, what did that make Noah? What did this shared DNA make Noah capable of?

With these thoughts swirling through his mind, Noah almost missed his turn; quickly swerving right to take the off-ramp.  Fort Irwin was a three hour drive from Los Angeles. But with his early start, avoiding most traffic, and his constant non-stop speed, Noah made it in a little over two. The base sprawled before him as he approached; flat expanse of military life; airfield glinting in the distance; high wired electric fence. 

Noah pulled onto the roadside two yards from the main gated entrance. He sat with the engine running. 

He felt sick.

There was time when he'd have felt nothing. When he didn't know love, or family, or a home with plated food and warm arms wrapped around him. Now, as he surveyed the base, he felt hate; saw a mass representation of pure loneliness. 

His grip on the steering wheel was tight; his foot reluctant to leave the brake peddle and power the vehicle forward. 

Was she here? Was it possible she never left at all?

He jolted out of his thoughts when Luke rang his cell again. Lifting it in a shaky hand he typed a quick text. 

“I’m okay. I need to find her. Don’t worry. I love you.”

He chucked the phone onto the passenger seat and pulled out into the road.

…

“Can you help me leave the house?” They were the first trembling words out of Luke’s mouth, once Terry finished filling them in on the contents of the police file. 

“Luke,” Terry sympathetically replied, “these things take time and-”

“I don’t have time,” Luke interrupted, “I have a couple of hours, tops… I _have_ to go and look for him.”

“I could go, Luke...” Holden offered; characteristically trying to bare some of his son’s load.

But Luke vigorously shook his head. “No. It _has_ to be me.”

“I understand how you feel, Luke,” Terry calmly replied, “but my experience tells me there are no quick fixes to agoraphobia.”

“Look,” Luke insisted with frustration, “I get that, okay? I’m the one with the problem. So if anybody knows how hard it is, it’s me. But I _have_ to try. If Noah can fly halfway around the world to rescue me, the least I can do is step the fuck outside!” 

Both Holden and Terry were staring at him skeptically. 

“Please?” Luke asked; pretty convinced his fear for Noah’s well-being would overshadow his irrational fear of the outdoors. “Noah needs me. And I _need_ to do this. It’s my turn to step up.”

Without much hope of success, Terry nodded her head; quickly calling her office to explain her absence for the day; reschedule her already busy diary. While she was on the phone, she took the time to organize an investigation into what she’d discovered in the Mayer file; hoping her efforts would pan out. 

In the meantime, Holden had a tough time convincing Lily that Luke and Terry could manage without their input. The best they could do to help, was to remove the children from the stress of the situation. She was reluctant, but eventually agreed. 

A few minutes later, Luke and Terry were alone in the house. Luke faced the flat plain of the front door, wondering how the hell he was going to get through it, when the thought of taking even one more step forward made his insides recoil. 

“Okay, Luke...” Terry’s voice echoed through the dark tunnel Luke’s mind formulated. She might as well have been yelling at him from across a deep chasm. “Luke,” she asked, “you with me?”

He tried to answer, but all that past his lips was a shot of hot air. His throat felt too constricted; a gag reflex causing him to stumble. A loud shattering sound pierced the air as something hit the floor in his efforts to find purchase.  He fell onto his backside with shock; wincing in pain and kicking his legs until his back found the solid safety of the far wall. By now the thumping in his ears had reached a crescendo.

He could hear Terry calling his name over and over from some far distance; but he couldn’t see anything; just a blur of color.  She came into focus; kneeling by his side with her usually tight bun now loosened and hanging sideways from her head.

“Did I do that?” he worriedly asked. He stared at her for a moment before scanning the room. 

“Hi,” she warmly smiled, “welcome back.”

Luke frowned confused. “Where did I go?”

“You tell me…”

Luke considered for a moment. “Um… it was dark and… I couldn’t breathe.” 

Terry nodded. “You passed out a little there I think.” 

Luke couldn’t help it; as Terry’s hand reassuringly rubbed his back he sobbed hopeless tears. 

“Don’t hate yourself,” Terry whispered; reading his thoughts, “you can only push so far or you’ll end up making it worse…”

He shook his head, unable to formulate words. Instead he pulled his cell from his back pocket and dialed. 

He knew Noah wouldn’t answer.

“Please come home,” he begged into the voicemail.

…

Noah was surprised at how easily he was admitted into the residential side of the base. All the guard had to do was look up his name to confirm Noah’s story of having once lived there. Assuming Noah was there to visit friends, the guard simply smiled and waved Noah through the barrier.

“Have a good day,” he said. 

It was far more difficult finding the right house; especially as Noah couldn’t recall the correct number or lane. For some reason, the first address to pop into his head was 165 Darlington Crescent. But this turned out to be his old school, usefully situated in the very center of the simulated-suburban sprawl.

Frustrated, he parked his truck outside the school; resting his forehead on the steering wheel as he tried, in vain, to remember his old address. 

Without any idea what to do, he decided to leave the truck; walking against the tide of arriving students to study the lay of the land; hoping something would jolt his memory. In the distance, he could see a large metal water tower. He recalled having to pass by that as a boy on his route between school and home; but in reaching the tower he was once again directionless. 

“Fuck!” he yelled at the trees; kicking a rock into a nearby bush and cursing the US Government for building army bases that all looked the same. 

He stood in the morning sunlight; brain spinning to find a solution. His eyes fell once more on the school and an idea hit him. Quickly, he scurried back up the road; pushing through the students and heading for the main reception. 

“Can I help you?” The receptionist looked liked she’d been planted there and taken root. She was in her late sixties at least; hair graying and adorned with floral pins. 

“Yes, thank you, Ma’am…” Noah replied, doing his best to radiate his utmost charm. “My name is Noah Mayer. I was a student at this school a few years back.”

“Yes?” she asked through her teeth; obviously already bored at the line of inquiry.

“I wanted to visit my old house today, but try as I might I can’t remember the address.”

She sighed in annoyance. “And I suppose you want me to go down to the archives, in the basement,” she added for effect, “to find your file and tell you the address?”

It was dawning on Noah he may not have been the first alumnae to ask this particular question of the aging receptionist. With all the houses and lanes looking identical, it wasn’t that surprising. He bit his lip in trepidation. 

That gesture must have displayed such a sense of loss and hope; because the lady was watching him and her features seemed to soften. “Okay, fine!” Her large body made a slurping noise as she wiggled free of her chair. “I just need some form of identification.”

“Thank you,” Noah breathed, already pulling his drivers licence from his wallet, “thank you so much!”

… 

“You were right,” Luke’s voice was muffled in his folded elbows where he sat in defeat, curled up on the sofa. His body felt battered; his brain thumped with a continual headache brought on by multiple spells of intense panic, “this was never gonna work…”

“There is one more thing we can try,” Terry suggested. 

Luke peeped at her through his self-made cave. “What’s that?”

“Hypnosis,” she replied.

Luke sat up immediately; wincing as his temple throbbed in protest.

“It doesn’t work for everybody,” she warned, seeing the look of renewed hope on his face, "and I've left it til last, because it has been known to make things worse for some."

“Do it,” Luke earnestly responded.

“I can’t promise anything, Luke. And if this doesn’t work then-”

“Do it,” Luke repeated, impatiently cutting her off, “I’m willing to try anything!”

Terry nodded. “Okay, perhaps you should drink some water before we begin.”

Luke stubbornly shook his head. “No time. Where do you want me?”

Terry frowned but nodded. She’d learnt over the months just how stubborn Luke could be. 

“Lie back,” she ordered; helping Luke get comfortable on the sofa. 

“Okay, I want you to close your eyes. I’m going to count slowly backward and all I want you to do is concentrate on the sound of my voice. Do you understand?” 

Luke nodded; shifting up slightly and resting his arms by his sides. 

It didn’t take long for Luke to surrender to the hypnosis. Terry was surprised. Luke was terribly strong willed, with an incredible mind. She thought he’d be less susceptible than most. However, she reasoned, he was pretty exhausted and anxious; which could have been contributing to the hypnotic state. 

“Okay Luke,” she began, keeping her voice on an even keel, “I’m going to ask you to bring up the memory of your first day back home from Africa.”

“We’re at the farm,” Luke replied; relief evident in his voice. 

Terry paused in thought. She had meant ‘home’ as in Los Angeles, but she took the opportunity to pull useful information from Luke. 

“Do you feel afraid at all?” she asked.

Luke shook his head. “No. It’s safe on the farm. Noah’s here.” He smiled and Terry couldn’t help but smile along with him. “But…”

“But what, Luke?” Terry prompted.

“I still see them in my sleep.”

“Do you mean in nightmares?”

Luke nodded; face scrunching up as though he were experiencing a night terror right then and there.

“It’s okay, Luke,” Terry assured him, “you’re safe. You’re at the farm with Noah, remember?”

Luke nodded. 

“Okay,” she continued. “Now, when you’re ready, I’m going to ask you to leave the farm.”

“No,” Luke’s reply was quick. “Please? I want to stay here.”

“It’s just a memory, Luke, remember?” she prompted. “You’re not actually at the farm anymore. You’re here at home… in Los Angeles.” Terry jumped in shock as Luke’s body whipped up to sitting. 

“We’re outside?”

“No, Luke.” 

Luke frantically looked around; beads of sweat forming on his brow. “You sure?”

“Yes,” she calmly said, “we’re inside, Luke. You’re on the sofa.”

He breathed deeply. “Oh… good… that’s good…”

“Why don’t you lie back down and relax?” she asked. She waited until she thought Luke was calm. “How do you feel now, Luke?”

“Better…”

“Okay,” she replied. “Now Luke, I want you to access another memory. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember your first morning back in Los Angeles; after you came back from Africa?”

Luke smiled again; going slightly pink around the ears. “Yeah… Me and Noah-”

“Stop,” Terry couldn’t help an embarrassed little laugh escaping, suspecting she didn’t want to know more than that. “Luke, can you tell me what’s happening as you try to leave for work. Just take me through it, step by step…”

“I’m dressed. Noah’s made breakfast. But I’m late so I’m just grabbing some toast. I’m eating it as I approach the door.”

Terry could see the anxiety rising in Luke’s cheeks just at the thought. “You’re safe on the sofa, remember, Luke. This is just a memory.”

“Okay,” he shakily replied. “I open the door and…” He stopped speaking, frowning in confusion and shaking his head.

“What is it, Luke? What’s stopping you?”

“It’s… it’s the wind…”

“The wind?” she clarified; quickly writing notes in her diary.

“It’s blowing hot… it’s too hot…” Luke’s panic level was on the rise once more. “and… and dry… right in my face. It’s… it’s the same…”

“The same?”

“As _that_ day… when they… when they… Oh, my god, Noah! Noah!” Luke screamed; struggling and coughing.

Terry was quickly by his side, holding him down by his shoulders as she spoke. “Luke, I’m going to start counting backward from ten, when I reach the number one you will wake up. You will feel calm and refreshed and you will no longer fear the outdoors. As soon as you wake up you will feel the need to go outside. Ten… nine… eight…”

The closer she got to ‘one’, the calmer Luke became, until he was lying in a state of deep-breathing.

She knew he was awake but she waited for him to make the first move. 

Eventually, his brown eyes flickered open. His gaze fell on the front door. 

Terry held her breath. 

“I want to go outside,” he whispered.


	11. Chapter 11

There wasn’t one window, one nail, one wooden board that Noah could recall from this nondescript house. Staring up at the rust-red roof, he felt nothing; no memory, no connection to the short time he had lived here at all. As a boy, he’d learned never to attach himself to anything or anyone he couldn’t take with him. So it wasn’t too surprising that this house looked entirely like every other house he’d known in his life.

Except for Snyder farm and their home in Los Angeles of course.

Noah’s first instinct was to search the garden. But the basic manors ingrained within him, had him climbing the porch steps to knock politely on the door. Nobody was home. This wasn’t too surprising on a workday. But Noah wanted to make sure. The last thing he needed was to scare the living daylights out of some poor housewife. He knocked once more to be certain; eventually satisfied the house was empty of people. Although a peek through the window confirmed it was currently lived in.

Grabbing a pickax and a spade out the back of his truck, Noah traversed the side of the house, coming up short when he spotted the wooden decking outside the kitchen door.

He remembered…

…

_“Wake up!”_

_“Hm?” Noah blinked in confusion._

_“I want you dressed and downstairs in ten minutes. Don’t bother showering. You’re only going to get dirty anyway.”_

_“Wha-?”_

_But the colonel was already gone._

_Noah rubbed at his eyes, sleepily grabbing his alarm clock to confirm what he already suspected; 5:00 on a Saturday morning._

_The boy groaned, flopping back into the welcoming sheets. He counted slowly to ten with his eyes closed, took a deep breath; lifted his tired body out of the bed._ _Noah knew better then to keep the colonel waiting too long. Y_ _awning, he pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt he usually used while mowing the lawn. He ran a comb through his hair and quickly splashed his face with warm water from the bathroom sink._

_His father was busy stacking planks of wood when Noah finally made an appearance in the back garden._

_“I’ve decided to deck this whole outside area,” the colonel explained, “I expect to get this done today, so no slacking off, understood?”_

_Noah nodded, wondering why the colonel was bothering. He would much rather his father spent the day trying to woe Kacy back. Noah missed her terribly._

_“Start by putting those planks in order,” Winston demanded, breaking into Noah’s thoughts, “they’re numbered, so I imagine it’s a task you can manage without screwing things up.”_

_“Yes, sir.” Noah sighed, setting immediately to work as his stomach groaned for breakfast._

_It was difficult going for a seven year old. The boards were cumbersome and splintered his fingers. Of course, he didn’t dare complain or whinge. Neither would he dream of asking his father why they were bothering to build a deck, when they wouldn’t be around long enough to enjoy it._

_By mid-day the foundation was laid to the colonel’s satisfaction._ _Let’s take 30 minutes to eat. Then we’ll continue.”_

_Noah sighed with exhausted relief as his father’s hand came to his shoulder; a rare squeeze of fondness Noah would file away in his memory’s treasure box._

_Winston made grilled tuna-melt sandwiches and Noah ate two with relish; chasing it down with a class of ice-cold milk._

_“It’s just you and me, son," Winston said all of a sudden, watching Noah with a strange wistful look in his eyes, “you and me, together forever.”_

…

Noah flinched at the memory; words spoken then, only to be repeated years later in a cabin, minutes before Winston Mayer set himself in flames. The logical side of Noah knew he was likely in the midst of a mental breakdown; or at least part of the way down that road. A newly formed part he wasn’t yet familiar with, considered heading back to the truck and calling Luke; for once letting Luke in on everything exploding in his skull.

But a larger part couldn’t help but think this was the answer. If he could just solve this new riddle; find Kacy…

…maybe he could finally make things right…

...perfect.

He stopped thinking. The Cedar wood splintered as Noah flung the pickax over his head; smashing the first board. He paused for just a moment; a second in which he could still decide to turn back; then shook his head and flung the ax once more.

…

“You doing okay there, champ?”

Luke raised eyebrows at this father. “Champ? Really, Dad?”

Holden smiled as he pulled the truck to overtake a semi-trailer. “You’ll always be a kid to me, Luke. One day, when those little ones of yours are all grown, you’ll understand better what I mean.”

Luke smirked, even as he maintained his frozen position; knuckles white where both hands gripped the perceived safety of the door handle. “I love you too, Dad.” Luke closed his eyes; breathed deeply; rested his head back against the seat.

“I’m proud of you, son,” Holden said, “it’s not easy what you just accomplished.”

“Guess I just needed a good reason too.” Luke replied, without opening his eyes. He could feel beads of sweat developing; fought the urge to panic at every mile they passed. Eventually, deciding it was best to distract himself with talk he said, “This is partly why we broke up, you know?”

“What is?” Holden asked.

“It’s just how he is, Dad. Noah plans everything ahead of time. It’s how he coped all that time living with Colonel Crazy. If he’s got a plan, then he can see things through; and everything fits into place. He’s, I don’t know…”

“…safe that way?” Holden guessed.

“Yeah,” Luke agreed. “So, like, when things go wrong or off-script, he can’t deal.”

Holden nodded. “He sees it as failure.”

“And growing up, failure wasn’t an option for him.” Luke said, staring up into the blue late morning sky. “Failure meant punishment.”

“No,” Holden corrected, thinking once more to the horse, Clandestine, “I think it’s more likely Noah’s conditioned to believe that failure means he _deserves_ punishment.”

Luke was silent for a moment as he considered this. “That makes sense. It would explain why he tends to put himself through unnecessary pain; like he’s punishing himself. Did I ever tell you why Noah pushed me away so much after he was blinded?”

“No, I don’t believe you did.”

“Because…” Luke shrugged, “we weren’t perfect…”

Holden looked over at his son.

Luke nodded at the expression on his father’s face. “Exactly. The life he wanted to give me vanished… and in its place was this… this darkness. The perfect future he had in mind – me and him, together in L.A.”

“He lost it all,” Holden finished.

Luke nodded. “Only he didn’t. I was still there. I never went anywhere. It wasn’t the dream that was lost… it was the perfection.”

“And when things aren’t perfect he’s failed.” Holden sighed shaking his head. “Wow, that kid…”

“And then there’s me, being, well, me... making everything in his life so fucking unpredictable!”

“He knows who you are, Luke,” Holden sympathized, “he understands your reasons.”

“Still doesn’t make it right though,” Luke pointed out, “especially since I know him too.”

The vast expanse of high security fencing came suddenly into view as Holden took the off-ramp for the army base.

“Like living your childhood behind bars…” Luke whispered.

Holden sighed his agreement as the truck rattled along the base perimeter; searching out the main entrance to the complex.

“There’s the sign,” Luke pointed just in time.

Holden took a quick swing right; pulled up to a large barrier manned by a nearby security hub. Three camera’s zoomed in on their truck; taking stock of every aspect, including the licence number.

They could see the security guard inside, but he seemed busy on a phone call.

“Come on,” Luke groaned impatiently, leaning over Holden to hoot the horn; a sound the guard simply frowned at but declined to respond to.

Eventually, after waiting longer than he could handle, Luke braved opening the door; stepped gingerly out of the truck.

“Luke,” his father warned, but Luke was already following a cautious path to the security hub.

“Excuse me?” Luke greeted, leaning against the wall to steady his shaking legs and hoping the guard would drop his call.

“But, sir,” the guard continued to say into the phone, completely ignoring Luke, “he was all clear! Came up clean as a whistle...”

“Excuse me?” Luke asked again, louder this time.

The already agitated guard glared at him; held up his hand in a stop motion.

Luke flinched; heart rate increasing as he improved his grip on the door frame.

“Hang on,” the guard continued with his conversation, “I’ll look it up.” He approached a bank of monitors and computers. Balancing the phone on his ear, he quickly typed a few words into the system. “Yeah, here it is, Noah Mayer…”

Luke skipped a breath.

“Lived here when he was a kid,” the guard was saying. “Dad was a colonel.”

“Excuse me!” Luke said again, louder this time.

…

Noah was surrounded. He sensed the other people there, sure, but was too focused on swinging the ax; destroying the boards. Periodically he’d swap the ax for the spade; digging deep into the earth he’d uncovered beneath.

He’d long since removed his shirt and rolled up the legs of his jeans. The sun burned relentlessly; his body poured sweat. At times he was forced to stop and wipe his eyes, causing them to burn with salt and soil. He was more thirsty and out of breath than he’d ever been in his life; but he couldn’t stop. Now he’d started, the task was all that mattered.

People, strangers, were taking turns to speak to him; but their voices were muffled by the blood drumming in his ears; the loud crack every time the ax fell. Whenever he felt hands on his skin, trying to pull him back, he’d violently shrug them off. He knew this was crazy. He knew he must look like some maniac, but he couldn’t consider that. Kacy was here… somewhere… somewhere…

Hands touched him again; he swung sharply round; throwing the other body off balance. Noah turned just in time to recognize Luke’s widening, panicked eyes. Instinctively, Noah dropped the ax. He grabbed Luke’s shoulders to hold him up; preventing the other man from toppling backward into splintered boards that lay all over the disturbed earth. Luke’s hands found Noah’s arms, digging into flesh as they held on tightly. They stared at each other; taking a moment to find their balance.

“Noah,” Luke eventually observed, “you’re filthy.”

Noah frowned, breathlessly staring down at himself for the first time. Luke was right. His torso was caked in sun-baked dirt; his jeans ruined. He took a deep breath of surprise; like waking up from unexpectedly falling asleep during the day. “Oh,” he whispered.

Luke laughed then; a sweet sound that puffed out like a penny-whistle. “You need to stop this now...” Luke gently told him.

Noah looked around at the complete chaos he’d made of the small back yard. Surrounding them were various army personal and civilians. Holden and a worried young woman with a small baby on her hip, stood together on the remainder of the decking.

“I tried to stop him,” she told Luke, “but I could tell he wasn’t hearing me.”

“It’s okay now,” Luke told her, without taking his eyes off Noah. “Noah, this is Iris. It’s her house and you’re destroying her yard.”

“I’m sorry...” Noah said; genuinely mortified to have caused her any distress.

“I know you are.” Luke smiled.

“I’m trying to fix things.” 

“I know.” Luke nodded.

Noah nodded too, releasing his hold on Luke; attempting to turn back to his task.

“No...” Luke said; pulling Noah back to him.

“I have to!” Noah insisted.

“No,” Luke said again. “Noah, listen to me-”

“She’s here!” Noah tried once more to wriggle out of Luke’s hold, “I _know_ she is!”

Luke was shaking his head.

Noah wasn’t sure how he was going to convince Luke. “I have to find-”

“Hello, Noah.” The sweet female voice came from behind him.

Noah blinked.

Luke smiled at him; nodded in the direction of the house.

Noah turned slowly, gulping at the older version of Kacy standing, alive and well, in the kitchen doorway. Behind her, he could just make out a relieved looking Terry.

“Wow,” Kacy smiled, “I always knew you’d grow up to be a looker!”

Noah opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t find words. Instead, he stared down at the various holes he’d dug around his feet. “You’re…” he gasped.

“I’m sorry,” she told him. “When I left like I did, it was for my own safety. I was afraid of your father so I left everything behind. I changed my name. I was terrified and… I guess I never considered the position I’d left you in.”

“You left?” Noah felt Luke’s warm hand on his back; leaned back into it.

Kacy nodded. “My sister reported me missing and the police eventually tracked me down. They wanted me to press charges, but by then your father had already moved you both away. I didn’t want anything more to do with him. I left things as they were.”

Suddenly, Noah felt the full weight of the day’s exhaustion as well as his relief. “My dad didn’t murder you.”

Kacy shook her head sadly. “No. But, like I said, I’m sorry. I should have made sure you were okay. You were just a little thing…”

Noah rubbed his face in both hands. “You’re alive. I thought…”

Kacy stepped forward, carefully avoiding the broken wood, to pull Noah into her arms.

He closed his eyes; she smelled the same as he remembered.

“I’m glad you’re okay...” he whispered. “It wasn’t your fault. My dad was…”

“I know...” she replied into his neck; leaving a light kiss on his cheek as they parted.

“Will you come back to ours?” Noah asked, hopefully. “I’d really like to spend some time with you.”

Kacy smiled brightly. “I’d love to.”

“I’ll drive you there,” Terry said over Kacy’s shoulder. She looked markedly at Noah. “You’ll leave now with Luke and Holden? Give the nice lady her yard back?”

Noah lowered his eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry. I’ll pay for the damages.”

He watched amazed, as Terry led Kacy back through the house. Only then did a realization dawn on him. He turned quickly back to Luke, eyes wide. “You’re outside!” he yelled.

Luke jumped in shock at first, but was quick to smile back and nod. “Anything for you, Bubby.”

Noah threw his arms around Luke. They laughed as they hugged each other. Luke didn’t seem to mind or even notice the dirt transferring to his own clothing. He kissed Noah’s smudged cheeks.

“Take me home,” Noah said.


	12. Chapter 12

"Ripples..." Luke mused, voice slightly raised to be heard above the firm whoosh of the shower.

Blue eyes, a little less cloudy than Luke had seen them in some time, glanced up through the cascade of pressurized water droplets. "Ha?"

Brown-red mud flowed in fading streaks down Noah's cheeks; clumps dropping in little splashes at his feet; staining the dark grey tiles. His skin was red-raw from the sun; his hands bloody.

"That's what I am." Luke explained, leaning casually cross-armed against the open doorway.

Noah reached for the shower rack, grabbing the shampoo and pouring a drop of the honey liquid into his palm. More muddy clay descended in large rivulets down his body as he lathered up his dark hair.

Hot, sweet-smelling steam swirled its way over to where Luke stood, curling tendril-like around his head; misting up the bathroom mirror.

"There were those times on the farm, when we'd go for a swim just before daybreak." Luke mused. "I'd float on my back; the water would be so calm, you know? I'd hardly move. Then Aaron or one of the girls would dive in on the far side. It would take a while, but, no matter, the ripples would eventually reach me. I'd bob up and down. How hard depended on who jumped in first."

Noah softly smiled, mentally travelling through Luke's memory.

"I'm the ripples..." Luke repeated.

"And what," Noah asked, with a slight snort that echoed against the bathroom walls, "I'm the pond?"

Luke grinned shyly. "Yeah, okay.... lame analogy, I know. But it's true, right?"

"I don't know, Snyder," Noah paused to scrub at a particularly stubborn patch of dirt from his thigh, "I seem just as capable of creating a few ripples of my own."

"Yeah, but don't you think I set you off? Like, you're all calm and dealing and shit, and I come along and upset the balance somehow."

Satisfied, Noah turned off the faucet; stepped out of the shower, whipping a blue towel around his waist in one smooth motion.

"You know," he said, "as much as I resist and as much as I avoid... I’ve come to believe that some ripples are good."

"Yeah?" Luke smiled.

Noah tilted his head and nodded. "Well, I guess finding out my Dad wasn't as much of a crazed serial killer as I thought, does help."

Luke nodded grimly; pleased that Noah seemed to have relaxed on the issue.

Noah’s face turned suddenly serious. “I need to say something.”

Luke stood straight, bracing himself.

“I guess…” Noah closed his eyes, trying to unscramble the words.

“It’s okay.” Luke smiled his encouragement.

“You know how much I want to make you happy? It’s all I’ve ever wanted. But, somehow, things keep screwing up and… it’s no matter what I do or how hard I try…”

“Noah…”

Noah held a finger to Luke’s lips. “I know how much you like to talk, but let me finish.”

Luke smiled and nodded.

The brunette breathed deeply. “I think, from the moment I met you, I’ve wanted… I’ve tried to make things perfect for you. But for things to be perfect, I have to be okay. I want to be able to tell you that I’m okay. But, Luke, I’m not. I’m not and I may never be. I know that now.”

“But…”

“…but,” Noah cut in, carding a hand through Luke’s hair, “nobody is. And that’s okay.”

Luke smiled from ear to ear. “Yes it is. You don’t ever have to prove anything to me, Noah. I love you just the way you are. I don’t need things to be perfect. I just need you.”

“I’ve wasted so much precious time with you, fretting over things I can’t control. I get it now.”

“Finally!” Luke joked, faking a slight slump of the legs.

Noah grinned and gently shoved Luke playfully." So… I guess what I’m saying is… things will be different from now, okay?”

“Okay. From me too. No more running off to save the world. I promise.” Luke stuck up two crossed fingers to seal his pledge.

Noah kissed him then, all soft and sweet and warmed up from the steam. He broke gently away to ask, “How’s the agoraphobia?"

Luke shrugged. "Somehow, my subconscious refused to believe I was safely home. Some mental mix up when the wind one day just happened to resemble what it felt like that particular day in Uganda."

"The wind?" Noah drew Luke into a wet hug, smelling his hair.

“Weird, ha?” Luke agreed. “But Terry says it’s not uncommon. I can’t say it’s completely gone, and I know I’m going to have to work at it, but…”

"The wind...” Noah shook his head. “I’m not even going to attempt to understand that one. But I’ll be here to help you any way I can. I’m just relieved you’re working it out.”

“Seems all I needed was a good enough reason.” Luke smiled. “I can’t think of a better one than you.”

Noah sighed relief into Luke's neck as he pulled him close. Luke smiled. Because, for once, it was a contented sigh, as though the entire weight of the universe had lifted off Noah's broad shoulders; relaxing the strong arms engulfing Luke.

“Get dressed,” Luke whispered, breaking reluctantly out of the hug. “You have an old friend waiting to see you on the deck.”

…

“I was raped.”

The ocean was calm that night; only a soft lapping at the shore. The sound of thumping music and party revelers could be heard from a nearby beach house. The sand was still warm from the day’s heat; it radiated up through his thighs; comforted him as he said those words out loud, just as Terry had tasked him too. He kept his gaze fixed on the horizon; glinting and sparkling as the ever undulating water reflected the light of the moon.

Luke’s arm rested on his back; palm squeezing his shoulder.

Holden and Lily sat silent beside the two men for some time after Noah voiced his secret. Both, Noah suspected, had already worked this out for themselves. But he didn’t have to be perfect anymore. Not for anybody. He knew that now.

“You need to say it,” Terry had said, “and you trust these people, don’t you?”

So he stumped up the courage and said it. It was strangely easier than he imagined.

“I’m not going to go into detail,” Noah continued, “but I wanted you to know. It happened a while ago. Before Luke came. Um… he spiked my drink in a bar and took me to his house…”

It was too dark to fully make out their expressions, but he heard Holden inhale and then exhale deeply.

Lily’s voice was tearful when she spoke. “Oh, Honey… I’m so sorry…”

“I needed to tell you guys. Um… it’s not been an easy decision for me. In fact, it goes against everything in me, but… I’ve decided to speak at the sentencing tomorrow. I feel like I have to. For Luke and for everyone else he hurt.”

“And for you...” Luke whispered in his ear.

“Yes… and for me too.”

“That’s really brave of you, Noah,” Holden said, “thank you for telling us.”

“I wanted to ask… well… I’d like both of you to be there tomorrow. Will you come?”

…

It didn’t matter how late it was. They made love as though seeking refuge and reassurance in the other’s body. Alone in their room, away from everyone, they tried to shed the anxiety of the night and the fear of what was to be faced in the morning.

Noah held Luke tightly afterward, his face buried in blonde hair.

“You’ll do fine,” Luke said softly; stoked Noah’s damp hair, digging his fingers deep into the stiff muscle where shoulder met neck.

“I know.” Noah lay still for a moment, leaving Luke to his ministrations. The tension of his shoulders gradually relaxed; his body growing heavier on Luke’s. He must have felt Luke draw breath under him, because he moved, rolling onto his side.

Noah's stomach rumbled loudly in the quiet and they both laughed.

“Didn’t you eat?” Luke asked.

“I was strung too tight to eat earlier. And there wasn’t time after we spoke to your folks.”

Luke put a foot out of bed, making to rise. “Plenty of leftovers in the fridge. I’ll just go and-”

Noah stopped Luke with a hand on the arm; dragged him firmly back under the covers; tucked him spoon-fashion into the curve of his long body. For good measure, he wrapped an arm over the man to ensure he stayed there.

“No,” he said definitely, "if I have to choose between food and you, I choose you…”

With a smile, Luke snuggled obediently under Noah’s chin; relaxed against him; absolutely pleased to stay. “All right.” 

Luke stretched, consciously enjoying the effect it had on the soft embrace beside him. Noah nestled closer; covers drawn up warm around his shoulders. Despite his tiredness, Luke found it annoyingly impossible to sleep; his mind seemingly unable to shut out the noises of the external world as effectively as the curtains blocked it from view. Luke curled his toes, caressing the tops of Noah’s feet. He tried hard to concentrate on sleeping, but Luke’s mind appeared determined to stay up. Fragments of memory kept appearing behind his eyelids – both from the past and the present. He tried to bring the mind to calm by making a mental checklist of mundane things that needed doing about the house. But this only served to waken him even further.

He rolled onto his side and looked at Noah; who lay prone on his back. Those blue eyes were closed, but his stern profile showed a slight frown and his lips twitched now and then; as though he were conducting some kind of internal argument.

“You’re thinking very loudly,” Luke said, “or are those sheep you’re counting?”

Noah’s eyes opened; he turned over to smile blushingly at Luke.

Luke laughed at him; scooted even closer. He laid his forehead against Noah’s shoulder; heaved a deep sigh. “We really must sleep, Noah. I’m so tired, and you’ll need a clear head tomorrow.”

“Mm...” Noah put an arm around Luke, pulling him into the curve of his shoulder.

The moon must have sunk behind a passing cloud. The room darkened suddenly; the world become still. Luke fell asleep to the rhythm of Noah’s gentle snoring. 

…

The San Fernando Criminal Courts lay on the fringe of the Angeles National Forest; imposing an atmosphere in complete contrast to the relaxed beauty and recreation to be found beneath its leafy boughs. Whenever court was adjourned, or at extremely quiet times, the joyful sounds of children at play would spill into the courts; blown on a hot wind from the neighboring school.

The 18th century clock on the courthouse tower hadn't worked for years; proclaimed the time as forever ten o'clock, when it was, in fact, closer to two in the afternoon. Luke could smell the history embedded in the wooden furnishings, as he kept his gaze firmly focused on Noah.

Noah, brave as ever Luke had known him, sat like a stoic soldier in the witness box. The trial was over. But before sentencing was decided, Noah had requested an audience with the judge and jury. A moment to tell his story and the effect Oliver's actions had on his life.

On their life. 

Luke leaned forward on the bench, grateful for Holden's steady palm on his back. He rung his hands as he listened to Noah recount the horrific events of that night.

The first time he heard it was enough. It killed him to have to listen to it again. He felt his blood bubbling. It took everything in him to remain seated, instead of lashing out at Oliver; who sat only a few feet away; poker-faced beside his lawyer.

Sitting on Luke’s left was Lily. She sniffed and gasped loudly as she heard Noah recount the grim details. Sometimes, she would moan. But she held fast to her son’s hand, squeezing her love and support.

When it was over and the court adjourned, Luke met Noah as the brunette was stepping down from the witness box. He linked both their hands together; kissed Noah briefly on the lips. Nothing was said. There was no need.

Holden shook Noah’s hand, patting him once on the back. Lily hugged him deeply.

“You did well, son.” Holden said simply. “ You did it. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Noah replied softly, "I feel good. Lighter.

But as they made their way down the long corridor toward the courthouse canteen, they were caught up short; surprised to run smack-bang into Oliver, just as the man was being escorted to the holding cells. 

Noah squeezed Luke’s hand hard; partly pulling him back as he sensed the anger flowing quickly through the blonde’s body; lighting that passion Luke was so well known for.

The guards were sharp and quick enough to realize the situation. They deftly created room to respectfully allow the small family to pass. But as they did so, Oliver wolf-whistled loudly.

Despite all his efforts, Luke couldn’t help but turn to look. The sickly smile on Oliver’s face, made the tiny hairs on his arm stand on end.

“You think it’s over, don’t you?” Oliver sneered, ignoring Luke to stare Noah down with his manic eyes. “But you’ll always be mine. I’ll always have you… right… in… here…” He lifted his handcuffed hands and tapped a forefinger to his brow on each emphasized word.

Before any of the guards could react, or even take a breath, Oliver was flat on his back on the floor; Luke having thrown himself at the man. Luke struggled to free his arms from the hold of the guards; trying to keep him back as he punched the body beneath him with every chance he got.

Like a rabid dog, Luke continued his attack. He continued to struggle, even as he felt Noah grip him by both shoulders and shake him. Voices called for him to stop; his mother and father.

“Luke!” Noah finally shouted loud enough for Luke to cease his attack; turn to look the brunette in the eyes.

Everything stopped. Everything slowed. And Noah smiled at him; absolutely unexpected in that moment, but perfect.

Beautiful.

Luke blinked once; a comforting peace enveloped him. Holding Noah’s blue gaze he breathed deeply; returned Noah’s smile; releasing his grip on Oliver and allowing the other man to help him to his feet. He glanced back, just as the guards were lifting their prisoner up from the floor; just long enough to notice a light had gone out in Oliver’s eyes. A realization. The smile Luke and Noah shared was one of solidarity. They were free. Oliver’s hold over them was well and truly broken. 

“Let’s go home,” the brunette said as Luke met Noah’s stare once more; that peaceful smile never once leaving their lips. "All I want to do right now is curl up with you on the sofa."

Luke smiled, flinging his arm around Noah's shoulder and steering him toward the exist. "Same here, Bubby, same here."


End file.
